So Completely Dismantled
by QueenOfQuiet17
Summary: She came apart, piece by piece, until she was completely broken at the end. And now that she finally reassembled herself, she finds the cycle beginning again. Grace/Karen. Now complete.
1. And So You Fell

**NOTE:** The vast majority of my stories are somehow inspired by songs. This time around, I've decided to expand on that, as well as my belief that every significant moment has a soundtrack. Every chapter in this story has been inspired by a song. Before the chapter begins, lyrics, or in one case a quote from another television show, will be featured in italics. I do not own any of the quotes or lyrics, credit is given each time, and there is no infringement intended. Enjoy the story.

* * *

"_I don't know what to do. Every time I look at you, I feel so completely dismantled."  
~Jenny Schecter to Marina Ferrer: The L Word, "Longing"_

_

* * *

_**So Completely Dismantled**

"_Well, nothing broke your fall and so you fell  
Down like concrete angels,  
Like a nickel to the well,  
Dragging a wish for silence.  
And friends all stand around and shake their heads and ask how it could be  
That nothing broke your fall and so you fell."  
~David Ford, "…And So You Fell"_

_September 1998_

I had forgotten about it all for nearly three years until I found your damn cigarettes in my desk drawer.

I was searching for a pencil sharpener of all things—my pencil snapped in the middle of a sketch—in the junk drawer I keep, filled with things that never really had a place anywhere else and I never felt the need to look for one. And after digging around a bit, I came across that little plastic sandwich bag with the trio of cigarettes, a few flakes of tobacco at the bottom of the bag. It was always three to take your troubles away. At one point, I knew the reasoning behind it, but if you asked me now, I wouldn't be able to tell you. But as soon as I was introduced to that concept, I became a smoker, and as soon as you, the one who introduced it to me, left my life, I quit cold turkey. Filthy habit, but it made me think of you, and back then I loved thinking about you.

Right now, I'm not feeling it.

You had me so messed up, so completely dismantled, my mind absolute mush, for the longest time. I don't know if you ever fully knew that. Or if you did, you used it to your advantage without my knowing. Did you want me to fall for you? Was that the plan all along? You kept telling me that it wasn't, but I don't know if I completely buy that anymore. And once you realized that things were changing, that what we had originally signed up for wasn't what we expected, you told me that you were feeling it too, even though it wasn't what we planned, even though it was technically wrong, and we should see where it took us. But if you were feeling it too, why would you leave?

You tricked me. I became so absorbed in you, so intrigued, that I couldn't help myself. And in spite of it all, I started to feel something for you that I've only felt with a select few—not even that, what I felt for you was deeper than anything I knew before. And it seemed like it was the same for you. But just as randomly as you entered my life, you made your exit.

And nothing broke my fall. So I fell.

And I was perfectly fine with the memory vanishing until I found the cigarettes. Your calling card, the last three you ever gave me. Well. You didn't give them to me yourself. You left them for me to find, not even having the courage to leave while I was in your presence. I thought I had you. I thought you weren't going to go off; you said you wouldn't, despite constantly telling me that you were only hurting me.

I never saw the harmful effects you did. Which is why I never understood why I ended up never seeing you again because of them.

I saw the marriage announcement in the paper, way back when. I saw that you did what you swore you wouldn't. It wouldn't have hurt if I knew for a fact that once you were done with me, you would go through with it. I could have prepared myself for it, the blow wouldn't have been felt nearly as much as it was. But you left me alone. And I had to find out about your plans from the smudged black and white print of Will's copy of the paper.

He asked me why I was starting to cry when I saw it. I had no real answer for him, so I made one up. Some poor, overly emotional excuse about how the marriage announcements always make me realize that I'm nowhere near that stage in my life, and I don't know when that's going to happen for me. Blah blah blah. I never thought he would actually buy it. But he did (what does that say about me?); he wrapped his arms around me and gave me the generic response that a best friend is supposed to give—that it's definitely going to happen, that I'm going to find the best guy in the world to spend the rest of my life with and live happily ever after, like in a fairytale.

God, if he only knew the half of it. I knew what he would do: shake his head, ask me why, maybe be a little disgusted, not because of you, but because I pursued you while I was still with someone. And then he would scoff at my explanations; I really wasn't in love, truly I wasn't (you and I both know I was, eventually, but he wouldn't have to know that), I just enjoyed the company, the fact that it took my mind off of everything I was lacking, because everything that wasn't there before was given to me, slowly, by her. Maybe we went a little too far (okay, we definitely went too far). Maybe I dove in a little too deep (okay, I definitely dove in too deep). But I wouldn't change it. It hurts so much now, but I wouldn't change it.

He'd probably think I'm delusional.

Maybe I am.

I'd say I wouldn't change it. But there's one thing I would take back if I could. That stupid, fatal ultimatum. That's what brought me here. That's how I lost you. I got too confident, too cocky, and you left. I just wish that you would have been able to leave while I was in the same room, when the sound of the water coming down from the showerhead didn't block the sound of your exit.

I'm supposed to be interviewing for my assistant; there's a woman who's supposed to be coming in any minute. But how the hell am I going to concentrate on anything now? I found your cigarettes, and now that they're in my hand, I can't stop thinking about you. I can't stop replaying every moment I can remember having with you. It's impulsive, addictive. I just can't stop.

It's starting all over again, I can feel it. Only this time, you aren't here, and I can't do anything about it.

"Hello?"

There must have been a knock on the door, but it didn't register with me. I shove the cigarettes back into the desk drawer I found them in—probably setting myself up for déjà vu again, no doubt—and try to compose myself for this interview. Her voice sounds so familiar, like I've met her before. I look up to see her standing in the doorway.

No. No, this can't be. I'm imagining it. I'm getting myself worked up and I'm imagining it.

"I, uh…I'm here for the interview. You must be Grace."

It's your fault, why I can't communicate right now. You've blurred my reality so much in the past that it's spilling over into my present. This should be an easy process: shake her hand, say hi, ask a few questions, take notes. Let her know that I'll phone once I make a decision. But her voice…I can't get past her voice. No. It's only my mind. The voice I can work my way through.

It's the way she looks exactly like you that I can't comprehend.

Quick, anything. Say something. Don't make her think she's potentially working for a lunatic. Although at this point, maybe it would be better to fill her in, let her go while she still has a chance. "I-I'm sorry, what is your name again?" Well, it's a start. And she never did give me her name when she phoned about the interview; I never thought to ask for it then.

"Karen Walker."

With that I freeze. Impossible. The most impossible luck in the world, and I'm the one who's got it. I fumble until I can finally find my footing. "Why don't you have a seat, and I'll ask a few questions. I guess I'll start with the obvious: why would you like to work for me?"

It's you. It's definitely you. You used to be Delaney, after a couple of failed marriages and a decision to go back to your maiden name, but it's still you. Your cigarettes are in my desk drawer, you left your mark. Why are you acting like you don't remember me?

"I'll be honest; I haven't kept a job for a few years." I knew that. "My husband, Stan, he's usually the one to bring in the money." I knew that too. God, I just wish you'd acknowledge me. If I pulled your cigarettes out and gave them to you, would it give you the jolt of memory you need? "So it's a mix of wanting to make my own money for a change," oh, that's such a lie, you never cared about that, "and just wanting to get out of the house for a little while. I know that's not exactly the most professional answer, by any means. And I know I'm not exactly qualified, but my husband knows a lot of important people, and I could get you some potential clients that could really take your business to the next level."

I'm not paying attention to what I'm asking anymore. I'm not paying attention to what you're telling me. My mind won't stop spinning. You haven't changed that much. Three years hasn't done a thing to you on the outside. The only thing that changed is your last name. Even my feelings haven't changed. I'm looking at you right now, pretending that we don't have a history because it's clear you don't remember it, and I'm being sucked in once again; I feel myself becoming dismantled, piece by piece. You were always alluring, exciting, mysterious. That's what I loved about you.

Only this time, you've found another way to break me apart: indifference, brought on by a slip of your memory. Every piece of history that comes rushing back to the forefront for me, every piece that gets pushed further into darkness for you, shatters a little bit of me. The dive bar we met at, where you had no reason to be. My small Chelsea apartment you insisted on me taking you to. Under the covers. Through my heart.

It's starting all over again. And even though you're here, I can't do anything about it.

I just hope there's something to break my fall this time.


	2. Slowly

"_I'm lonely, I'm lonely.  
I've got no one to hold  
And I'm lost in the cold  
And I am freezing.  
Slowly, I am freezing."  
~Jim Boggia, "Slowly"_

_October 1994_

Maybe if she drank enough, she could wipe away this feeling she had inside of her that she was settling for the sake of having a relationship.

Will had invited her over to dinner, just the three of them. Michael was even the one to suggest it, he said. Any other night, it wouldn't have bothered her. She absolutely loved Michael, thought that Will couldn't have found a better guy. But tonight was one of those nights when all of Danny's imperfections and shortcomings came full force into the blinding light she was trying to hide from. He's forgetful but at times kind. He's an overgrown frat boy but serious on occasion. He could say a million varieties of "I love you" but take them all back with some selfish act for which he won't apologize. And so begins the ongoing fight between her head and her heart. She could do better—it becomes obvious on nights like these—but she still loved him…she thought.

Over dinner, she could see, hear, god, even feel, the love between Will and Michael. She should have been happy for them, and in all honesty, she was, even if it didn't exactly come off that way. She always had been. But it only reminded her of the fact that she hadn't felt this with Danny in a long time. It made her feel completely miserable.

She wasn't alone; in that aspect, she succeeded. But she was lonely. God, was she ever lonely.

And even though she's tried to stop feeling this way, she begins to freeze into ice, keeping the cynicism inside her cold. And it's gotten to the point where she can't find a way to melt it.

God, she wished she could stop crying. She came to this dive bar to take her mind off of everything, only to start crying about a predicament she was responsible for, a predicament she put herself in. She disgusted herself. Be happy for your friend, deal with your own problems. It's that simple.

Yeah, simple. Maybe it will be once she can get someone to refill her glass. Well. Even if it isn't, she can toast to the happy couple while hating the fact that she waited around for some spark in her own relationship that was probably never going to light up.

"Here." She heard a voice beside her as she saw a hand place three cigarettes on the bar in front of her. Wasn't it customary to only supply one? Wasn't it customary to _ask_ if you smoked first? It was as though they just dipped their fingers in the pack and picked out some random number to give away. "It looks like you'll be needing these."

Grace looked up to find a woman sitting down next to her; she looked like she had no business being in a place like this, dressed in a sleek black dress and heels that no doubt came from one of those upscale uptown stores that Grace could only dream about being able to afford, but she didn't think to ask about her presence here; she was more taken aback by a seemingly generous offering. But the first thing she finally focused on was this woman's lips, such a crimson red that she had never seen before. It took Grace a moment to finally find her voice and respond.

"Oh, I appreciate the gesture, but I really don't…" she said, attempting to turn down the cigarettes.

"Come on, honey. Live a little. These aren't going to kill you." She took out a lighter and slid it on the bar next to the cigarettes before flagging down a bartender. "Get me a martini…and a refill on whatever she's drinking," she said as she pointed to Grace. "Figured you might want another."

"Thanks. Why three?" Grace asked about the cigarettes. She put one in between her lips and fumbled with the lighter until the woman took it out of her hands and lit it for her, watching the glow of orange at the tip. The smoke was surprisingly smooth as she let it linger in her lungs for a little before lightly blowing it out. She instantly felt a little calmer after exhaling; why hadn't she done this before?

"I learn from experience. The first one is to stop the tears, and don't tell me you haven't been crying. Once you feel something inside you other than the sadness, the tears will slow. The second one calms the nerves. It's something to relax you, after all. And the last one…that's the one that makes your problems disappear in the smoke. It may not solve everything, but it sure as hell helps."

Grace focused her eyes on the smoke slipping from her lips, the way it curled in the air around her before disappearing. She sighed. "I'm just sick of trying to make something fit that doesn't. He and I have absolutely nothing in common. And I know that there's something about him that makes me want to stay with him. But lately I can't for the life of me remember what that is. It's almost as if I'm just in it merely to have a relationship." As soon as she said that, she winced, wanting to take it back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have unloaded that on you. You don't even know me, it isn't fair."

"It isn't fair for you to keep it in. We all need someone like that in our lives. Someone to commiserate. Not to assume that you don't already have someone like that."

"My someone is currently in a blissful relationship and I know he's unable to grasp the concept right now. It's one of those things."

"So try me. I've had more than my share of heartbreak before. Perhaps you can find something in me to relate to."

Maybe it was the drink; maybe it was the fact that someone was willing to listen. Maybe it was the fact that she was a complete stranger to Grace. Maybe it was something about a late night bar that just makes you want to open up to someone you don't know. But it was so easy to talk to her. So easy to let everything go. And in turn, this woman let Grace in on the fact that she was in the same boat, not sure how serious this man was that she was with. But when Grace looked down at the bar, she saw a diamond ring on the woman's left hand.

"Then why did you say yes?" she asked, taking the woman's hand in her own to examine the ring a little closer. Her touch was so soft, smooth; she wanted to keep her hold on it, but knew she would have a hard time explaining it, and she didn't want to lose this connection now, not so quickly. Not when it felt so right.

"Because I thought I could overlook that. Because I thought that despite all the signs pointing to our downfall, he actually loved me if he took the time to pick out a ring and slip it on my finger. It's a huge commitment. It just made me think that he would have thought it through. But I don't think he really did."

"So is that why you're here tonight? You can't tell me this is one of your regular haunts."

"Stan's regular haunts are my regular haunts. His circle of friends is my circle of friends. Somewhere along the line I erased the division between his life and my own. I can't remember doing it, and that's what scares me the most. So consider this my first act of rebellion." She let out a laugh as she said it, as if it were a ridiculous notion. Trying to save face. But Grace could see that deep down she was as tormented about things as she was.

It only became one more reason she was so intrigued by this woman. There was torment there, but there was no way it would fully make its way to the surface. It was as if she was so jaded that nothing surprised her anymore. So jaded that it turned a once full and beating heart to stone. And Grace immediately wanted to find a way to change that. But she always considered herself a little jaded too, not by choice, but by Danny's actions, or lack thereof. And she realized that she probably couldn't warm this other soul when hers hasn't even begun to thaw out.

But it didn't mean she didn't want to try.

The woman looked down at the watch around her wrist, breaking the spell that had so transfixed her. "I should probably go. I've got to get back home sometime." She started to get out of her seat as she fished through her purse, pulling a few bills out. "This should cover your tab, too," she said and put the money on the bar with a definitive motion before Grace could even protest. She started to walk away.

"Wait," Grace called after her and watched her turn around. "Can't I at least get your name?"

A smirk began to play on the woman's lips and she let out a quiet little laugh. "You're serious? Well, at least _someone_ thinks I'm interesting…" she trailed off, an obvious jab at her fiancé. She gave Grace's request a bit of thought. "Later. Might as well leave some mystery about me."

Grace merely stared, open mouthed, unable to process the fact that she had poured her heart out to this person, and supposedly vice versa, but not even give her name—it hadn't occurred to her that she didn't even fill this person in on the same thing.

"I'll be back here," the woman said, breaking the silence that Grace had left alive. "Promise. As long as you say you'll be here for me to find."

All Grace could do was nod.

As she watched the woman leave, she looked down at the bar and realized that she was already on her third cigarette. The third one, the one to make her problems disappear in the smoke. Well. They did disappear, but not in the smoke.

They disappeared in the promise of something new, the promise that she was inadvertently given by the woman with the crimson lips.


	3. Put the Fun Back in The Funeral

"_Oh, we walk in our shoes  
Put the fun back in the funeral  
Days on top of days,  
I hear the dirt fall on the coffin roof  
I can't breathe, I can't breathe  
In this box, a-hah,  
I can't breathe."  
~Erin McKeown, "(Put the Fun Back in) The Funeral"_

_October 1994_

She was being buried alive. She could feel it. Locked in a wooden box in a hole six feet deep, and the days piled on top of it one by one like clumps of dirt crashing against the top. And she knew she couldn't scream; it would take up too much air and she'd be done for. But she had to do something, find a weakness in this contraption and break through to the light.

Because she was only dying here.

Stan was lying in bed as Karen passed the doorway. "I'm going to hop in the shower. I'll be in soon," she said. The only confirmation she could get that he actually heard her was a slight nod of the head that she caught out of the corner of her eye. Once the bathroom tile hit her bare feet, she let out a sigh and stripped down before bracing herself for the warm water falling against her skin. If this were eight or nine years ago, before she finally threw down that ultimatum—"It's either her or me, I'm sick of feeling like the other woman. So get a divorce, or let me go."—she would have heard him walk through the door right about now. She would have heard the buckle of his belt hit the tile floor and felt the rush of cold air as he opened the shower door to let himself in. He would have tried to kiss her skin before the drops of water got to it first. She would have felt his touch around her waist, grazing her breast. She would have loved it and known that he was happy to be there with her.

But this was not eight or nine years ago. This was a divorce, some indifference, and an eventual engagement later. And it took all of that to make her see that ultimatums never worked. Even if your heart's in the right place, ultimatums never work.

She turned the water temperature up, felt it as it turned hot. Hot, nearly scalding. Let her feel something. She craved it. She got a taste of feeling a week ago, and it was all she could think about. Walking into that hole in the wall just to spite Stan, who always told her that if she were to go out for a drink, go out to the Plaza because that's where everyone in our circle is, Karen, and one should never waste an opportunity for networking. It was all business to him, she was beginning to think. All perfectly planned steps to success. But she's been through this for years. And all she can see at the other end is failure.

So she ended up downtown, found the nearest bar and came across The Girl. That's what Karen had been calling her all week. The Girl, with soft red locks and the hole in her heart that wanted to be filled. Karen never got her name, but she definitely got her sorrows. Not that she minded it—anything to take her mind off of her own problems. But since then, all she could think about was The Girl.

And it scared her.

Branching out from the circles that Stan had stuck her with wasn't what frightened her. Realizing her relationship was less than perfect wasn't what frightened her. It was the fact that the way she felt towards The Girl was something she only felt once before. She had finished her first year of college when she met Delia. It was Karen's first year in New York City, and once the Spring semester was over, she had nowhere to go; she spent the remainder of the money she had taken from her mother on tuition, she was underpaid at her job and couldn't afford the summer classes required for her to stay in the dorms, and she didn't know anyone who would let her sleep on their couch. A week before she had to move out of the dorm building, she met Delia in a café in SoHo and they instantly connected. Just like she did with The Girl last week.

In fact, The Girl reminded her of Delia. Except that Delia was a little older than Karen and had flowing black hair that almost hit her waist. But the resemblance was definitely there in every other aspect. And that's why she didn't go back to the bar; that's what scared her the most.

Delia took her in and shared her one bedroom apartment with shoddy fans that never cooled the place off on the Lower East Side. And in spite of herself, Karen fell. Whether it was Delia's generosity, the heavy summer heat playing with her head, the mixed signals Delia gave (becoming increasingly more intimate, but at the same time refusing to acknowledge any sort of feelings towards Karen), or a combination of the three, she thought she was in love. But one night, Delia left without warning, and all that was left of her was a note saying she'd be "gone for a while" and a pile of cash that would last Karen for another month. She never saw her again.

It was the first time her heart was completely shattered. Karen ended up staying in the apartment until she met and moved in with the man she would eventually call her first husband. She had occasionally walked down to Delia's neighborhood in the Lower East Side, just to see if she could catch a glimpse and maybe get some closure, but she never found her. And she felt like it would all happen again if she walked into that bar now and met The Girl again.

Oh, come on, Karen. Get over it. You just met her. There was absolutely nothing there to suggest that it's going to happen again. Besides, even if it did, the roles would be switched. The Girl would play the part Karen did all those years ago, while Karen would transform into a Delia with more money and shorter hair. Only she would do things differently. If they fell, she would let them fall where they may. She wouldn't hold anything back.

She wouldn't leave without warning. That would be the biggest difference.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to slip out to the bar, just to see if The Girl was there. She probably wasn't; it's been a week already, and she most likely got sick of waiting around for Karen to come around. Karen had every intention on making an appearance the next night, but those thoughts of Delia and how eerily close her interaction with The Girl was to the past kept her from leaving her home. And technically she wasn't lying. She said she'd be back there later, any time in the near future, so just wait it out a couple of days until it's okay to go. And then a week rolled by. And she felt horrible for standing The Girl up when she didn't mean to. She probably stopped looking for Karen.

But it wouldn't hurt just to stop by.

Karen stepped out of the shower, toweled off, dried her hair. She wrapped her towel around her body and made her way to her closet, tried to find something that would mesh more with the atmosphere of the bar and sighed when she couldn't find anything. She got dressed, and walked down the stairs and out the door.

She had to pass her bedroom in order to get to the staircase. If Stan wondered where she was going, he didn't say anything. He probably didn't notice anyway…

After his divorce became final, and Karen was the only one in the picture, it was perfect for about eight months. And then he started to lose interest, as if the only thing that drew him to her was the fact that she was the other woman, and that required a hint of danger, of risk, that she hated. But neither one of them made a move to end it. And when he proposed two years ago, she almost said no. But there was something deep down that she loved about him.

If you asked her now what that thing was, she wouldn't be able to tell you.

She was nearly invisible to him, even with the engagement—he still had yet to set a date, as if he just put the ring on her finger and forgot about it—but at this point, she didn't mind it so much. It always made for an easy getaway. No questions. No suspicions. No cares. And until he shows any interest in actually marrying her, she was fine with that.

Karen took the limo, disregarded the driver's confusion at her request to take her to the bar. It would only be a quick peek. Just some time to scout the place out, see if The Girl was there, and once she was certain she wasn't, walk back out and go back home. It was probably a pointless trip. But Karen knew that if she didn't take it, she would be wondering whether or not The Girl was waiting for her all this time.

The Girl probably wouldn't be as hung up on Karen as Karen was on her.

But at least this way, she could erase any doubt.

She waited for a few moments once the limo slowed to a stop by the curb outside of the bar. There was some wicked twist of fate playing out here. She could feel it. She just wasn't sure if she was ready for all that it implied.

Karen, please. Just stop. It's one person, with whom you had an hour-long interaction. She'll be a passing friend at most. Stop overanalyzing, stop jumping to conclusions. Just go.

"Ma'am?"

She jerked back into reality and realized that the driver was staring at her. How long had she been sitting there?

"This is the right place, isn't it? Did I make a mistake?"

Karen looked through the window at the bar, its neon lights blaring in the late night bustle. She opened up the car door. "No, this is right. Just wait here," she said absently before shutting the door behind her. She walked through the doors and started to look around the place. Searched every corner, looked at the face of everyone with a drink in their hand. Nothing. She was about to give up hope.

Until she found The Girl's back turned towards her, in the same place she was in a week ago.


	4. Change My Night

"_Restless, hoping  
Something oh so riveting  
Can come along and rock this right.  
Change my night,  
Catch my eye  
Change my night."  
~Feathermerchants, "Change My Night"_

_October 1994_

It's been a week. Where the hell was she?

Grace had blown off dates with Danny, and ended up pissing him off slightly in the process, to sit on the same wobbling stool at the same time of night, ordering the same drink and nursing it until last call. When she opened her apartment door to leave, she found Danny on the other end, ready to ask her on an impromptu date. And when she said she had plans, she could tell that he was annoyed, but he didn't say anything and walked away. Grace knew that she was growing further apart from him than she ever wanted to be.

All for a woman she barely knew. No name, little background, and she would rather spend lonely nights waiting around for someone who probably wasn't going to keep up her end of the bargain.

The other night, on her way back home from the bar, she went into one of the 24-hour drug stores and bought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Since she finished the last one that woman gave her, she had been craving one, and finally caved. She fished for the pack and the lighter in her purse as the bartender slid her beer to her. She fumbled with the lighter again—finally got it to flame up on the fifth try—before letting the smoke from the cigarette slip into her lungs. Never in a million years did she think she would do this. She was always the good girl, no matter how hard she tried to break away from it. She wasn't one to smoke, she wasn't one to drink in excess. And yet here she was, at the bar every night this week, now with a drink in one hand, and a cigarette in the other.

But she couldn't blame it on that woman…could she?

Grace hated herself for being so consumed by this person. She didn't understand it, couldn't explain it, but there was something in the way that she was able to pour her heart out so easily to her that both intrigued and frightened her. It was something she never felt before, towards anyone. She could lie and say that Danny used to give her that feeling, but you would be able to see right through that. She was never a good liar.

So if this woman really did show up and Grace told her that she had totally forgotten about her, would she know that it's a lie?

She took another drag on her cigarette and watched the orange tip glow with heat. She needed a change. There was no denying it. Whether it was through this woman, or something else, she needed to change something about the way things are going. But she'd start by changing tonight.

"You know, that's a filthy habit," she heard behind her as she let the smoke out. At that moment, she wanted to simultaneously turn around in excitement and stay stone still and ignore her. She slowly turned and saw the woman, different clothes but the same crimson lips.

"I remember someone telling me that it was a supposed cure-all for your problems," she said flatly.

"Is it working?"

"Well…my problems are still there. But I'm a little more relaxed about it." Grace watched as the woman sat down beside her; their eyes didn't meet. "I didn't think you were ever going to show up. It's been a week. Any distance I had with my boyfriend has definitely grown. I blew him off all week waiting for you."

"I never meant to keep you waiting. I never wanted to waste your time, or somehow inadvertently cause some sort of rift in your relationship. I was trying to figure out whether or not this was a good idea. That's what took me so long to get here."

"I'm not looking for anything like that," Grace said, guessing what she was hinting at. It wasn't the thought of being with another woman—she had never found a woman before who she fell in love with, but she never ruled it out—but the thought of being with another person at all. At the same time she was trying to make things work with Danny. There was nothing to be gained. "You know what I'm going through. I was looking for a friend. I like you." She paused for a moment before continuing. "And you showed up, eventually. So I'm assuming there's something about me that you like as well."

Grace looked at her as a smile started to crawl across her face. She paid Grace's tab again, before getting up and motioning for Grace to do the same. "Come on," she said. "Let's get out of here." She started to make her way towards the exit.

"Wait." The woman stopped, turned around to face her. "Will you at least tell me your name now?"

The woman took Grace's hand in hers, helped her off the bar stool. "It's Karen," she said as she started to lead Grace out the door.

"Karen," Grace replied softly, testing it, how it sounded coming from her lips. "I'm Grace."

Karen looked at her for a moment, as if reconfiguring her image of Grace now that she had her name. "That's really pretty," she said gently before opening the door to the bar for Grace.

When Grace walked out to the curb, she froze, surprised to see a sleek black limo in front of her. This was the East Village…she couldn't remember the last time she saw one of these around here, if ever. Karen opened the back door and waited for Grace to slide in. "Are you coming?" she said.

"This is yours?" Grace managed to blurt out as she got into the car.

"Will be once I marry him, I guess."

They were silent on the ride uptown. Grace was looking out the window, and Karen couldn't help but sneak a glance at Grace. Careful what you do, Karen. She's innocent; she's looking for a little less complication. And if you go much further, you're bound to add more on top of what she already has to carry. You're trying to help but you probably won't, despite your best intentions. Don't pull her into your twisted little web. Do you really want to continue the cycle?

The limo slowed to a stop and they stepped out to find the Hudson River. Grace had walked near the West 79th Street Boat Basin a few times with Will, when she visited his apartment and they decided to take advantage of a beautiful day and go for a walk in Riverside Park, but she had never been on one of these boats. She never knew anyone who had the money to own one, much less dock it. "You don't get seasick, do you?" Karen asked as she led her to one of the smaller ones—the yacht next to it would have been too much—and helped her on. Grace shook her head as she climbed up, watched Karen as she got the boat ready and it moved further away from the dock until they were in the middle of the Hudson.

"Thought you might like looking at this instead of a room full of drunks for a change," Karen said as she looked up to the sky. Once Grace was able to take her eyes off of her, she looked up as well. You could actually see the stars in the night sky, something that she had never been able to do in the city. The streetlights mixed with the neon glow of Manhattan canceled out something she used to take for granted, when she lived upstate. It was beautiful.

"I can't remember the last time I've seen the stars at night," Grace said quietly. "It feels like I've been in the city forever." She looked over at Karen and how her eyes were locked on the sky, marveled at the fact that someone she barely knew would go to such great lengths to make her happy. Maybe Karen saw a little of herself in Grace. Maybe she just felt bad for her. But either way, Grace liked it. Silence surrounded them, and at that point, she wanted to do whatever it took to break it.

"Do you think I can fix things with Danny?"

Karen broke her gaze at the sky to look at her. The look of light that was originally there was now replaced by one of concern and sincerity. "Take it from me, honey. Sometimes you can make everything better, and it will truly feel like it did when you first met. Sometimes you'll be able to sort out all of your problems, get to the root of them, and weed them out so it won't bother you anymore. But usually, if the problems are big enough, it won't happen like that. But you never stop trying." She looked down at the ring on her finger. Was she really trying with Stan? Was she really putting all the effort into this relationship that she did with her past husbands, boyfriends, girlfriends, flings?

She started up again. "I'm not really one to be asking advice from, though." She held out her hand, the one with the ring on it. "If I go through with this, it will be my third marriage. I failed twice. I've never been the best at this sort of thing, but I made a promise to two different men and it broke, one way or another."

"So are you marrying him to prove that you can make something work?"

"No. I keep asking myself why I'm doing it. The truth is, I haven't been able to find anyone who loves me as much as I love them, and if I do, I screw it up somehow. And Stan says he loves me. I might as well be with someone who wants to be with me."

Grace looked at her for a moment. And even though Karen figured what she was going to do, she was a little taken aback when Grace wrapped her arms around her. Consolation, comfort, no doubt signs of the friendship they were trying to forge. Karen didn't know if all of this came from pity or from knowing exactly how she felt. They weren't so different from each other. Sure, one look at the surface, and you think that there could be nothing linking the two. But they know the same things. They feel the same things. They love the same way.

Karen didn't mean to bring the evening down. But when Grace pulled away, she saw a smile on her face. And she knew she didn't ruin it. Well. At least she's been able to make this connection last so far.

And she didn't want to admit it, because she knew where it would lead her, but she couldn't help it.

When she felt Grace's touch, it made it all okay.


	5. Part of Your History

"_I always knew that you'd do great things.  
I didn't ever want to slow you down.  
I was there when you learned to use your wings  
And I saw you leave the ground.  
So don't you know I still remember  
That once I was someone to you.  
Girl, you were meant for something bigger.  
It doesn't matter anymore what you think of me.  
I'm just proud to be part of your history."  
~Blue Merle, "Part of Your History"_

_September 1998_

Never in a million years did I expect you to actually hire me.

My performance was mediocre at best; I gave the worst answers to your generic questions. I don't need the job. You know that, I know that. I didn't walk in there in the hopes that you would pick me. My twisted mind thought that it would be the perfect ploy to see you. That's all I wanted. To see you, how you've changed, how you've stayed the same, what you did with the business. I'm really proud of you, Gracie. If I could tell you that outright, I would in a heartbeat.

For a week after I called about an interview, I was racking my brain trying to come up with the best way to approach this. Mapping out what to say, how to act around you. It's been three years, but you left your mark, and it's still there in the corner of my heart. I didn't want to assume anything, especially whether or not you truly remembered who I was, so I walked in like some stranger off the street. It hurt me to do that, and it absolutely killed me when I first saw you. All I wanted to do was take you in my arms, just to feel your weight against my body again, but I couldn't. And that was the hardest fact I've ever had to face.

No, that's a lie. The hardest fact is that you don't seem to remember me.

Even after I gave you my name, it wasn't enough. You acted like you were meeting me for the first time. Like we never met in that dirty bar in the East Village. Like we didn't sit out on my boat and look at the stars the second time we met. Like I never woke up beside you in the morning after having made love the night before. All we ever accomplished, and all we ever dreamed had vanished. Why don't you remember me? You meant the world to me, you still do.

Did I really mean nothing to you?

I remember when you first brought me to the office, back then an empty space. You had a few clients and were able to work from home, but once the client list grew, you realized you had to invest in office space. God, your eyes lit up as soon as we walked in, and you told me, "This is it. This is what I want." And you rattled off how you wanted to decorate and how you'd use the back room as a swatch room to make more room everywhere else. You were so happy.

Later on that night, you took me back to your apartment in Chelsea, that second story walk up that still holds a warm place in my heart. And as we lay in bed, you couldn't stop talking about the office in SoHo. About how you could finally feel like you were running a business, instead of just acting on a hobby (you went to school for this, Grace, it should never feel like a hobby). And then you turned to me, your eyes glowing against the night, and asked me if you were doing the right thing.

"You haven't been able to stop smiling since we left the space," I said. "You haven't been able to stop talking about what you want to do with it." Right then, you were about to cook up an apology, but I stopped you. You never have to apologize for anything like that. "I loved hearing you talk about this with such enthusiasm. It makes you happy. Of course it's the right thing." That may have been a commentary on more than just the office—possibly us, I'm beginning to realize as I'm looking back, but I didn't know it back then and I'm still a little unsure now—but it was true.

You saw so much potential in the place, and I saw so much potential in you.

Now I see that you went so far beyond any expectation.

Part of me wishes that I was there for all of it. But I know that's just selfish. I should just take pride in the fact that I was part of your history, and I do. But I've always wanted more. I wanted to see you fly. You were meant for something great, something bigger than what you had, and you started to see that when I was with you. You started to act to make it different. I was there at the beginning, but even though I tried so hard, I didn't last to see the second act. I couldn't last.

And that was all my fault.

I knew it didn't look good when Stan finally sat down to talk to me about the engagement. And then he did what I never thought he would do: he set a date. He finally picked a time where he would be ready to call me his wife. And on the surface, I seemed fine with it. But deep down, I tuned him out after he told me the date. All I could think about was how you would handle it, because I knew I was going to have to tell you eventually. We never had any set rules. We never told each other "I love you." But it was there. It was definitely there. You couldn't have that much sincerity in your voice and that much passion in your actions if there wasn't love.

Danny was breaking your heart, little by little; I knew that from what you told me and what I could see when you were silent. I never wanted to join him in the demolition. But I also knew that if I didn't tell you soon enough, it was only going to hurt you more. So I filled you in and watched you cry slowly, each tear another knife through my chest. And that's when you said it.

"I can't do this anymore. It's him or me. And if it's him, you can leave."

It was the first time either of us fully acknowledged anything more than a friendship between us, so late in the game. It was so disarming, but it worked, at least for the time being. I told you I would stay with you. And at that point, I had every intention of keeping that promise. But as time went on, I fully realized what I was doing to you. And I couldn't keep doing it.

I just wish I could tell you my reasons for leaving.

And I wish I could ask you a few things, too. If you knew my reasons for leaving you, would you still be upset, angry with me? I could say that it doesn't matter how you think of me anymore, but we both know that's not true. Would you take it in stride and focus on the good times we had? Do you wish we could start it over again like I do? Do you still think about those moments we had? The night you wanted me to take you out somewhere in my scene? That afternoon we ran through Central Park in the rain to find a dry place, only to stop halfway and kiss? The way you held my hand the first time you brought me to your apartment?

I wish I could get these things out.

Maybe one of these days, I will.

The phone rang this evening, and I could tell that it was you on the other end. Rosario called for me, told me that someone was on the phone for me, and I made my way to the bedroom to take it in privacy. "Hello?" I asked softly.

"Mrs. Walker?" God, that stung coming from you. It still does, that feeling never went away. "This is Grace Adler calling." Your voice faltered. Maybe you do remember me after all. Maybe it took you a while to figure out who I am and now you know.

"You can just call me Karen," I said, hoping to ease your nerves, but you gave me no sign that it helped.

"I just wanted to let you know that I want to offer you the job. That is, if you're still interested."

Now it was my turn to falter. This was my sign, wasn't it? Something to let me know that you remember me, that you want to see me? There is no way I would have passed the interview in any other circumstance. You had to have known it was me. This was it. This was you, giving me a second chance.

What the hell am I thinking? Why do I always do this? I jump to conclusions only to be disappointed in the end. To you, I'm simply an applicant hoping for a position at your company. I'm another face passing by on the streets of Manhattan. I'm someone you wouldn't think twice about because you don't know me. Well. You do. But you can't (or won't) acknowledge it.

Either way, though, I'm not about to pass this up.

"Yes. Of course I'm still interested. Thank you so much."

"Can you start on Monday? I can help you get set up, and we'll see where it goes from there."

You talked about the small details, but if you quizzed me, I wouldn't be able to tell you what they were. All I could focus on was the fact that I'd be seeing you, five days a week. After three years of wondering where you are, what you're doing, I get to be in the same room with you for a forty-hour work week. I'm taken aback, surprised, but I hope it won't last. I need to figure out how to act around you. I need to prepare. You were broken hearted when I left, but I was too. I never said those three words, but I felt them and meant them every day. You have me dismantled. And I need to figure out how to reassemble myself.

Because never in a million years did I expect you to actually hire me.

And never in a million years did I expect to hear myself say yes.


	6. I Don't Wanna Be Your Girlfriend

"_I don't wanna be your girlfriend.  
I don't want a lull in my lullaby.  
I don't wanna be your girlfriend.  
I don't want to lie."  
~Amanda Kravat, "I Don't Wanna Be Your Girlfriend"_

_November 1994_

The sky was grey and rain seemed inevitable, a perfect day to stay in. Grace picked up a worn copy of Capote's _Breakfast at Tiffany's_—Will had insisted one night that she borrow it, because she didn't read often enough for his standards—sprawled out on her bed and opened the book in an attempt to take her mind somewhere else. Somewhere other than the place that replays the events of last night in a loop so she can't escape them. But as she started to read, she realized she couldn't focus, reading the same sentence three times over and still not absorbing it.

Last night wasn't how she planned on giving him the key to her apartment.

When she signed the lease to her home and was given the key, she automatically made a copy of it, to give to whoever she would be with when it started to get serious, the instincts of the true romantic inside her kicking in. She was waiting for the perfect time to give it to Danny. But more and more time went by, and she wasn't quite sure how serious he was about her, and how far she really wanted to take it. A part of her almost didn't want to give it to him at all. And then she met Karen, and somehow it became all about her. Spending time with Karen, talking to Karen. It helped to free her from the stress of everything else, if only for a little while.

But with more time for Karen came less time for Danny. And he wasn't having it.

He had taken her out to dinner last night, made a few jokes about how he hardly got to see her anymore. "Sometimes I forget I have a girlfriend," he said with a smile. But it hurt Grace. She just didn't say anything until she took him back to her apartment.

Danny wanted to spend the night, but that wasn't necessarily high on Grace's list of desires, and she let him know that. It didn't go over well.

"Come on, Grace, this is the first time I've seen you in almost a week. I don't know what happened. I don't know what I did."

"You don't know what you did?" she countered. "Let's start with your little comedy bit at dinner! 'Sometimes I forget I have a girlfriend'? That was low, and you know it. I can't believe you sometimes. You had to know that was going to sting."

"I had to say something, I feel like I'm losing you. I don't want to lose you. Just give me a sign to let me know that you're still here."

God, there were times when he could be the sweetest man on the face of the earth. But they were so few and far between that they got so overshadowed, and so easy to forget.

That was when she did it. The first thing she thought of to do. It wasn't anywhere near how she wanted to do that, but she figured she might as well do it now. Grace moved to the kitchen, opened up one of the top drawers that carried all of her miscellaneous things, and picked up a small white envelope. She opened it up, and slid the spare key into her palm. She walked back over to Danny and pressed the key into his hand.

"If I give you this, will you please give me the night off?" she asked wearily.

All he did was nod before walking out the door. He didn't kiss her goodbye.

Grace closed the book and put it by the edge of the bed. There was no way she was ever going to retain what she reads right now; there was no use in trying. She just needed something to take her mind off of it all. She got up from her bed and walked to the window, watched as random city dwellers walked the sidewalks of Eighth Avenue. Grace wondered about them. They looked like nothing fazed them, like the only important thing was getting to wherever it was they were headed. She wondered if everyone out there was happier than she was.

Or maybe they were just better at hiding the darkness.

Out of all the people walking along the concrete, Grace could see one person outside of her window out of the corner of her eye who was standing still. She turned her focus to this solitary person and a smile grew quickly on her face.

Grace rushed out the door of her apartment, down the stairs and to the sidewalk before crashing into Karen in a hug. "How long have you been out here?" she asked with a laugh when she pulled away and looked at her.

"Not long. If you didn't notice me in another minute, I was just going to knock on your door. But I figured this was a little more spontaneous."

"You don't know how happy I am to see you," Grace said. She wanted something to divert her attention. She got it.

Karen immediately picked up on it. She knew something was wrong with Grace, and she rightly assumed that it had something to do with Danny. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Grace shook her head. "Not really. Just take me somewhere. Anywhere. I don't want to have to think about it, and being cooped up in there," she pointed to her window, "makes me think about it."

Even behind Grace's smile, Karen could see the sadness. And all she wanted to do was find a way to get rid of it.

They walked down to Washington Square, making fleeting small talk along the way, Karen hoping the entire time that the weather wasn't going to ruin her plans for them. Delia was the first one to bring her here, so many years ago, because her philosophy was that "Everyone needs to be under the arch at least once in their lifetime, to experience the culture this little plot of land has to offer." There was music breathing from each corner—on any given day, you could find at least three different musicians playing somewhere in the park—mixing with scholars mixing with lovers. Karen loved it, and always found time in her week to stop by, if only for a few minutes. And she hoped that Grace could see what she did in the place.

They made it under the arch, and Karen was relieved to see that an impending rainstorm didn't deter any of the regular players. On the other side of the arch, a man with an acoustic guitar was strumming a song she had never heard before. Near the fountain, a jazz trio set up camp, complete with a blaring saxophone. And just before the entrance to the walking path was a group with a harmonica and a makeshift drum playing with their heart and soul.

Karen looked at Grace, whose eyes were filled with wonder. She had always assumed that since Grace lived fairly close, she would have passed by at least once or twice, if only on the way to another destination. But the look on her face was the look of someone who was experiencing it all for the first time. "Well," she said, breaking the silence that had a hold on them. "Folk, jazz, or blues. Take your pick."

Grace led her towards the trio by the fountain, mesmerized by the saxophone, how seamlessly the man played it. She broke the spell long enough to say, "I didn't realize you were into this. It doesn't seem like it would be something that's up your alley."

For a moment, she thought that she might have offended Karen, but the smile that crept on her face proved otherwise. "I told you, Grace," she said with some kind of delight in her voice. "I frequent the places I do because of Stan. If it weren't for him, I'd probably be here every day rather than the Plaza, or some hundred-dollars-a-meal restaurant. I get to be myself around you, who I truly was instead of what I turned into. It's refreshing."

Grace gave her a smile as Karen felt her hand slide down her back. She knew it was merely a gesture of friendship. But she could swear there was a hint of something more in her touch. She noticed Grace shivering slightly against the November chill and she wrapped her arm around Grace's waist and pulled her in to keep her warm. It surprised her how easy it was to do, how willing Grace was.

She didn't even flinch.

The trio ended their song, and the people around them that were watching clapped their hands in applause. But all Karen could focus on was the way Grace's arms wrapped around her waist. She watched as Grace looked at her, smiled once again, but they didn't break the gaze. It was starting to become serious, and they both knew it. And Karen knew that if she didn't go for it now, she was probably never going to. She started to lean in and realized that Grace was doing the same.

But then, in a moment of realization, she pulled back, leaving Karen confused and a little heartbroken.

"I, uh…" Grace started, fumbling. "I don't want to be your girlfriend," she blurted.

She saw the look on Karen's face and immediately attempted repairs. "I shouldn't have said that. It's more that I can't. I don't want to lie. I don't want to do that to Danny. And I don't want you to do that to Stan. No matter how much grief they give us, we're still committed somehow. You're fantastic, and I love being your friend. But right now, that's all I can handle."

"No, I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Karen tried to let go of her grasp on Grace. If what just happened wasn't awkward enough, lingering when she wasn't wanted would be the icing on the cake. But when she tried to let go, Grace stopped her, put her arms back around her and tightened her own grasp on Karen's waist. Karen couldn't help but smile.

Maybe the idea of the two of them together wasn't such a ridiculous notion. Maybe all it's going to take is a couple of Grace's walls to be brought down. It would take some time.

But Karen was willing to wait.


	7. Street Light

"_Satisfied, no, with the love when I'm in it.  
The smaller the hill, the more I want to push it.  
The closer to the truth you get, the more I want to disprove you."  
~Melissa Ferrick, "Street Light"_

_November 1994_

"God, I feel like a fashion doll. Dress me up in whatever you like, it's a game."

Grace's disembodied voice was coming from the inside of the dressing room made Karen laugh. She knew there was no frustration in those words, no hostility. Grace was having just as much fun as she was. She walked over to the stall that Grace was in and tossed another dress, this one a deep navy blue, over the door. "Hey, Fashion Doll," she said. "This is the last one, I promise. Let's not forget that this was your idea to begin with."

The other day, they were sipping coffee in Greenwich Village when a lull in conversation was growing larger and larger. Grace was the one to break it. "How come I've never seen your life? You take me everywhere you think fits the way I live, but I've never seen how you live. Why is that?"

"If I'm bored with the way I live my life, I can only imagine how you're going to feel if I bring you into it." She looked at Grace for a minute as she took a sip of coffee. "You really want to go somewhere I normally go?" Grace nodded. "I'll take you out to dinner this week. And let me take you shopping tomorrow so we can find something for you to wear."

This afternoon, Karen held up her end of the bargain and took Grace to find a dress. It was mainly her doing, picking up pieces that she thought would suit Grace along the way to the dressing rooms, Grace becoming a fashion doll of sorts. Outfits of endless possibilities, and the fun is in dressing her up. Now, Grace opened the door to the dressing room stall in the dress she was just handed, and walked out for Karen's opinion.

"Oh god…honey, that's the one, it's perfect."

To see Grace emerge in the dress, hugging the frame of her body before falling at the waist into a waterfall of fabric that lands at her feet, the thin straps resting against her shoulders, was a brilliant sight. But as soon as the wonder wore off, the ache to simply touch her came back full force. It's funny how something so simple can trigger something so complex. She saw Grace's smile as she went back into the stall to change back into her own clothes as she tried to make the feeling go away.

The next night, when Karen picked Grace up for dinner, it was as if she had never seen her before. She was wearing the dress, but still managed to walk out from her apartment building a different person. She had taken a straightener to her hair, trading her traditional curly locks for flowing hair that fell just beneath her shoulders. And that alone was enough to make Karen do a double take. And the ache she had the previous afternoon doubled. "If you're looking to impress," she managed to say, "you definitely succeeded."

Grace's laugh started off her reply. "I just wanted to make sure I looked okay tonight." She did a little twirl on the concrete of the sidewalk, let the fabric whip around her legs before coming to a standstill underneath the streetlight. It was as that was a spotlight just for her. "What do you think? How do I look?"

"You look like the finest fashion doll there has ever been." Grace let out a laugh at Karen's comment as she wrapped her arms around her. She opened the door of the limo and slid in.

She never would have told Karen, but in all honesty, Grace had taken more extreme measures than usual to prepare for the evening because she figured that if she built a convincing enough costume, she'd be able to forget the feelings of her true self and adopt the ones of this new character. Will once said that every time she started to feel something for someone, something more than a mere physical attraction, she automatically put four walls around her, even if she didn't try to. But she knew that now, she was only making the walls stronger. She didn't want to block that kiss in Washington Square. But she didn't want to be in love either. And she knew that since she already held Karen in such high regard, one kiss could easily make her fall.

And if she told herself enough times that she wasn't going to fall, maybe it would stick. Maybe she would believe it.

Grace had been silent for most of dinner; half of it was the fact that she was taking in her surroundings—so beautiful, so extravagant compared to her usual cuisine of Chinese takeout or two-dollar pizza or something of the sort—and watching as Karen interacted with the people she recognized (they had to be friends of Stan's, there is no way Karen would find these people interesting on her own. But the other half was the fact that she couldn't keep her mind off of Washington Square. And she was afraid of what she might say if she spoke.

Karen looked at her for a moment. Grace was staring at her plate, barely touching her food. Immediately she thought it was her. Maybe she shouldn't have brought them here. Maybe a glimpse into her life wasn't the best idea. She decided to break the silence between the two of them.

"Are you okay? You haven't said anything for a while. Did I do something?"

Grace looked up from her plate and into Karen's eyes. This was what she was afraid of. She didn't want it to be now, she didn't want it to happen there, but it didn't look like she had a choice. She didn't want to lie. She faltered for a little before finding her footing. "Are we…are we really not going to talk about it?"

There was no use in playing dumb, playing oblivious. Karen cared about her too much for that. "It happened over a week ago, Gracie." She had slowly but surely started to call her "Gracie," if only for the way Grace's eyes lit up when she said it. But this time the light wasn't as bright as it used to be. "If we didn't talk about it back then, I didn't think we were going to talk about it now. I made a mistake. I can't take it back, but I apologize. It's in the past. Forget about it and move on."

"No," Grace said quietly. "It wasn't a mistake."

"You're right. But it wasn't just me leaning in. And since you're having a hard time acknowledging any of this, it's just better if we call it a mistake."

"That's not what it is. It's not a refusal to acknowledge anything. I'm in love with Danny."

"Are you still hanging on to that?" Karen didn't say it in a harsh way, but it still hit Grace just as hard. "You can tell me time and time again until you're blue in the face that you're in love with that man. But you don't see the look in your eyes whenever you talk about him. I do. And it's filled with a sadness that hurts even me. No one should ever willingly hurt like that."

"He can be really sweet sometimes."

"But you never tell me about the times he does something special for you. Whenever you mention him, it's about how selfish he is, or how he's upset that you're spending a little less time with him. Tell me some of the good things, and I'll be able to back off the subject."

Grace looked meek, like a child being scolded. "He hasn't done anything like that lately," she said in a small voice.

Karen winced at her own behavior. God, she was horrible. This was in no way what she planned for the night. It wasn't how she ever wanted to be around Grace. Grace came to her looking for a haven, to take her mind off of everything. That was what she gathered the deal to be. Instead, she was only giving her a magnifying glass and forcing her to analyze her problems further. "I am so sorry, Gracie." Her voice was cracking with deeper and deeper realizations of what she had done. "It's not my place. What I meant to say was…"

Well? What did you mean, Karen?

"All I wanted to do was to tell you the reason I did what I did in Washington Square," she continued. "He makes you so sad and I wanted to take that away. You let me wrap my arms around you. You moved in closer. I was only going with what I thought was the flow. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to make it awkward. I just thought that the feeling was mutual. And I was wrong. It happens. It's embarrassing," she said with a smile, "but it happens."

Grace looked at her for a moment and could feel herself soften. She shook her head. "Please don't apologize. It's not that I didn't want it. It's that it shouldn't happen. But I want to make it up to you. Anything. Please let me know, Karen. What do you want?"

It was a loaded question. They both knew that. But Karen tried to ease the impact a little bit.

"I want you to take me back to your place."

Grace looked at her with a bit of confusion.

"I've only ever seen the outside of the building. You've never invited me inside."

Grace laughed a little and smiled. "It's nothing like what you're used to."

Karen nodded. "And that's what I want."


	8. Roads

"_Oh, can't anybody see?  
We've got a war to fight,  
Never found our way  
Regardless of what they say.  
How can it feel this wrong?  
From this moment, how can it feel this wrong?"  
~Portishead, "Roads"_

_November 1994_

Karen broke through the first wall tonight without intending to, without being able to stop herself in the process, without speaking to Grace while she did it, without Grace telling her that she did, because they both knew how obvious it was.

"Brace yourself. You're bound to be underwhelmed," Grace joked. She unlocked her front door, opened it for Karen before walking in herself. She watched as Karen wandered around the hardwood floor, taking her surroundings in: the small kitchen off to the left, the living area you could walk right into, complete with her stereo and music collection. The bedroom door was open and Karen could see inside, a plush bed amongst the dressers and nightstands topped with candles. "This is nice," Grace heard her say. "I wish I could go back to a place like this sometimes."

She smiled at her. "That is such a lie," she said with a little laugh. Karen turned around, looked at her incredulously. "Karen, you've got a penthouse mansion on Park Avenue, with twenty times more space and a hundred times more beauty than this." She was only going on what she imagined the home to be, but she could guess that it was a pretty accurate portrayal by the look on Karen's face. "Why would you ever want to go back to something like this? This is nowhere near where you are."

"Because home for me is too much. Too much space, too much emptiness, too much echo, too much loneliness. We have rooms we don't even use. I can stay in one part of the house and have Stan be unable to find me, and it takes too much effort to care all that much. It's cold there, like a museum. This looks lived in, comfortable. Someplace I'd rather spend my time. And until I got together with him, this is a place I would have lived. Sometimes I wish I could go back, but I don't know if I ever could."

Out of the corner of her eye, Grace saw the small, flashing red light that signaled a message on her answering machine. Her heels clicked against the kitchen floor as she walked over to the machine and pressed play.

_You have one new message._

"Gracie, it's me." Danny. Of course. Always with the horrible timing. "Call me when you get this, will you? I came by earlier, but you were out. I want to take you out tomorrow night. I miss you. Let me know if you're free. And please don't blow me off again." Grace pressed her finger to the button.

_Message erased. You have no more messages._

The first thing Grace thought was that just as she was beginning to loosen up, she was reminded of the things that troubled her the most.

The first thing Karen thought was that he stole her nickname for Grace (he had probably called her that first, but Karen didn't care), and he didn't even put the same compassion in that she did.

Karen could tell that Grace was upset. It was fairly obvious even though she stayed silent. She walked over to her and wrapped her arms around Grace's waist, hearing the deep blue fabric rustle against her touch, Grace's red locks brushing slightly against her cheek as she pulled her in closer. If she breathed in deep enough, Karen could smell the strawberry shampoo that Grace used. In that same moment, she wanted to take back her touch. After the way she had handled the conversation at dinner, she was certain Grace wanted her nowhere around her, that she only brought her back because Karen asked her to.

But then she felt Grace's hands brush against hers before wrapping around them. She felt the warmth of Grace's skin. And she knew she was safe.

But not for long.

It was in those moments that any restraint, that any inhibitions, were thrown out the window. She really had no intention of doing it, especially after Danny's voice had filled the apartment for twenty grueling seconds; it would only be taking advantage of the situation, jumping at the opportunity when Grace was already down and looking for comfort. That's how she always felt, and it's the reason why she never tried anything after the failed kiss in Washington Square. But at that point, she couldn't help herself.

Karen pressed her lips against the skin of Grace's shoulder, gently, but enough to make Grace gasp at the feeling of it. It took Grace by surprise, not for the fact that it happened, but for what she felt when Karen's lips made contact with her flesh.

She felt the biggest wave of a mix of relief that it finally happened, and of wanting more.

Inside, Karen's mind was racing, trying to stop her, trying to guide her away from the inevitable, but she knew her heart wasn't having it. She slid a finger underneath one of the straps to Grace's dress, sliding it off of her shoulder, planting kisses along the way. She hesitated for a moment, in fear of being stopped, being scolded for going to far. But Grace let her go, even encouraged her by slipping her arm out of the strap. Karen slipped the other strap off of Grace's shoulder and the dress fell down, crashing blue against the linoleum of the kitchen floor. Grace looked down at the floor, at the pool of fabric at her feet, felt a chill against her newly bare skin—she had neglected to wear anything underneath—as she stepped out of the surrounding fabric and slipped out of her shoes, her feet padding against the linoleum as she did so.

She turned around slowly to look at Karen. Grace's hair was in her eyes and she made no move to brush it away from her face, but Karen could still see the glow that radiated from them. Grace moved closer and closer until Karen could push locks of her red hair behind her ear. And that's when it happened, almost simultaneously.

She leaned in, completely of her own free will, and pressed her lips against Karen's hard.

With a swift move, her fingers crawled down from Karen's shoulder to her arm and down to her palm where she took a hold of her hand, leading her to the bedroom. There was nothing left to lose, nothing more to do. It made sense. At that moment, it was the only thing that made sense.

Grace was hesitant to take off Karen's dress. But when she watched her slip her high heels off of her feet, making her even shorter than she was used to, all Grace could do was smile. This woman has been the kindest soul to her for the last month—she loved Will, but she needed a feminine perspective to rely on sometimes—nothing but generous and caring. If you think about it, there's really no risk. What was there to be afraid of?

She freed Karen from the lace that bound her as she felt her back hit the mattress. She remembered, as she looked at Karen hovering over her, how soft her hand felt when she first touched it, trying to get a closer look at the engagement ring in the bar. But to feel her skin now, the way it brushes against her own in the darkness of her room was softer and warmer than anything she had ever experienced. She ran her fingers through Karen's hair, leading her up to her lips, letting her fingers run down Karen's back. She felt her quiver against her touch and she couldn't help but smile into her skin; this entire time, for as long as she's known her, Karen's been the one who was in control, who knew where they were going and how they were going to get there. And to be the one to make her shake was something in which she found a satisfaction she never felt before. And she loved it.

Karen planted kisses down Grace's breastbone, dazzled by how sweet the taste of her skin was. She wanted to be as swift and smooth as she could be, but in the back of her mind, there was always that fear that Grace was going to put a stop to it at any moment. She would go one kiss too far, one touch too far, slide her hands down somewhere off limits, and Grace would want her to leave. But Grace gave no sign of wanting to stop. And little by little, Karen became more comfortable in her actions, in the way she maneuvered around Grace's curves, the way she moved from her hips to her breasts to her lips and back again.

Grace let out a soft moan and bit her lower lip as Karen got to her navel and smiled into her flesh. This was it. This is what she was meant to have. The passion, the commitment, the bond. She had been looking for it everywhere and never thought she'd be able to find it. She thought she had it with Danny, and in the beginning, she truly did. In the beginning, if she had the choice, she would have spent all her days with him in bed. But she knew now that what she had experienced with him was nowhere near what she was capable of feeling. It took her forever, it seemed, but she had it now, and she wanted it. More than anything.

She wanted this, only this, only Karen's skin against hers from now on.

It was then that it started to hit Grace, that she started to realize exactly what she was doing. Oh, god. What was she thinking? This was insane. It was everything she could ask for and everything she didn't want to become wrapped up into one. Yes, there are obvious and unavoidable problems with Danny. Yes, she wanted something more. Yes, she loved the company that Karen kept. But this wasn't the way she wanted to go about changing everything.

This…well, this was merely cheating. Plain and simple.

Outside, a steady rain began to fall, throwing itself against the bedroom window, blurring the streetlights, the traffic headlights. Grace looked down at Karen, watching as she kissed her skin, leaving a trail that slid lower and lower on her body. She averted her glance to the window, the blurred streetlight, and suddenly it became so unclear that it looked like a formless, vague light. Silently, warm tears started streaming down her face, stinging her cheeks as they went down. She looked back at Karen quickly, to see she could tell. But she didn't notice; she was still traveling down Grace's body. Grace covered her mouth and stared at the ceiling, willing the tears to stop but knowing that they probably wouldn't.

And she couldn't figure out if she was crying from joy or from guilt.


	9. Houdini's Box

"_The clock ticks by the bed.  
I hear you breathing.  
I should be out the door,  
But I'm not leaving."  
~Jill Sobule, "Houdini's Box"_

_November 1994_

She woke up to the sounds of the C train rushing by underground, marveling at the fact that you could hear the subway underneath Eighth Avenue so clearly. She woke up to the early morning November sun bursting through the window of the bedroom. She woke up to a feeling of serenity completely surrounding her and a weight completely lifted off of her chest.

She woke up to Grace, curled up next to her in a peaceful slumber.

Karen looked over at the sleeping redhead beside her and at once knew what it felt like to have everything fall exactly into place. But at the same time, she worried about where she stood. It wasn't like any other time in her life; after the first time she made love with someone, her place in their life was solid and she knew that. With Grace, it was a different story. With Grace, it meant denying any feelings but moving through the actions anyway. It meant suppressing any words to make it sound like they're being unfaithful, and yet falling off of the pedestal they put themselves on faster than they can take in.

They were a walking, living, breathing contradiction. And Karen loved and hated that in equal measure.

Slowly, quietly, getting out of bed so as not to wake Grace, it occurred to her that if she had any sense at all, she would be getting dressed and walking out the door without looking back, willing to forget anything and everything that happened in the hours before. It's what she should have done. Instead, she walked into the kitchen, found her purse and fished around for her cigarettes and her lighter with every intention of crawling back into bed beside Grace. At her feet beside her was the dress Grace was wearing last night, piled in a heap of navy blue lifelessness. The remnant of last night, and immediately she started to regret it. It was done, it happened, she couldn't take it back.

Not that she really wanted to, but that feeling of taking advantage of someone while they were already down came rushing back to the forefront of her being. If she left now, Grace would still be asleep. If she left now, maybe after hanging the dress back up properly to hide the evidence, Grace would only think it was a dream. She would feel awful about it, but maybe it was the best thing to do after all. She should leave. But she wouldn't; it wasn't what she wanted to do. She wanted to see Grace's eyes and hear her "good morning." She wanted to make sure that what happened last night was okay, that a boundary wasn't crossed. Hell, she just wanted to see her smile again.

It would have been easy to walk, but Karen was never one for doing what she should.

"Don't tell me you're smoking three of them. Last night wasn't that bad, was it?" Karen lit her cigarette, grabbed a mug to act as an ashtray, and turned around at the sleep heavy voice to find Grace's eyes watching her, opening up slowly but surely. She couldn't help but smile. God, she looked beautiful against the Chelsea sun and her disheveled sheets. Karen padded her way to the bedroom, climbed into bed beside Grace, who found a place wrapped around her arm. And she wondered how much of this was for real, and how much of this was merely a façade to please her.

"You remember the three cigarette theory?"

"I remember everything you've said. And it's only been a month since you've said it, my memory isn't _that_ horrible," Grace said with a tired laugh as she wiped at her eyes. She woke up with the feeling that her face was still tear-stained—she could feel the dried saline on her cheeks—and wanted to make sure Karen didn't notice. She would battle her own demons when she was faced with them; she didn't need to bring Karen down with her. All she wanted to do right now was to welcome the morning with someone who made her smile.

"I didn't mean to wake you, Fashion Doll," Karen said as she took in the warmth of Grace's skin against her own.

Grace smiled at the nickname. It had only been in action for a few days, but it felt as comfortable as her own name. And it was just for Karen, something no one else called her. She loved it. "No, it's fine, don't worry about that." She slipped the burning cigarette out of Karen's fingers and took a quick drag. Her eyes locked with Karen's troubled look. "Sorry," she said as she exhaled a cloud of smoke and gave back the cigarette. "I'll go get my own."

"It's not that," Karen said softly. "It's just…you really scare me sometimes, you know that?" She didn't say it in an accusing way; it was more like an admission of weakness. She knew she was going to be safe here if she were to unload her story, but at the same time she hated feeling so vulnerable. She tried on a weary smile but knew that Grace would be able to see right through it.

"What are you talking about? What did I do?"

"Nothing, you haven't done anything wrong, believe me." Karen took a deep sigh, and at that moment she didn't want to go on. But she knew she had to; she unleashed the beginnings of her insecurities. There was no turning back now.

"I did this once before. A long time ago, after my first year in college. Except back then, I was you. She was a little older, befriended me when I didn't know anyone in the city, took me in when I needed a place to stay. And I fell under her spell."

"What was her name?"

Karen took a drag and exhaled. "Delia. She had long flowing black hair and dark eyes and seemed completely jaded to the world, as if she tried everything once and nothing surprised her anymore. She told me she wouldn't hurt me, wouldn't leave me. And I completely believed her. God, back then she could have told me anything and I would have believed her like a fool. I was a fool. I told her I loved her and she told me she would keep that safe. There were times where I thought I was in love before, but I swear, nothing quite like this."

Grace took the cigarette again. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know. One morning, I woke up and couldn't find her. Waited around a while for her too that day. Then eventually I noticed a pretty ambiguous note on the kitchen counter beside some money she left behind for me. I never saw her after that, so I don't know where she is or what she's doing. I never got any closure."

Karen looked at her as she took it all in. It wasn't exactly how she wanted to bring in the new morning. But it was all going to come out eventually. It might as well be now while Grace still had a chance to say no.

"So…" Grace said slowly, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. "I scare you because you think I'm going to do the same thing?"

"That was part of it before I got to know you. That was why it took me a week to come back to the bar. But I'm afraid I'm going to do the same thing to you. And I know how much it hurt me. I don't want to be responsible for putting you through that. God, if you only knew how much I…"

"Shhh." Grace put a finger to Karen's lips before kissing her cheek. "Don't say it. If we say it, we're done for. If we say it, it becomes something I don't really want it to become, something I don't think I'm ready to handle quite yet. But I know. I do."

Karen took the final drag of the cigarette and put it out in the coffee mug before putting it on the nightstand on top of a worn copy of _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. "For a moment, I was considering leaving. To save you from…I don't know, being tangled in my twisted little web. I don't want to do the same thing to you that Delia did to me. I feel like it's inevitable."

"No, it's not. You don't have to repeat history, Karen. You know where the wrong turns lie, and you won't steer in that direction. It's that simple. We're not going to be like that. We're going to break the cycle. You'll see."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I have yet to find one deceptive bone in your body. I certainly couldn't feel one last night." There it was. That made Karen smile. "I don't think you would leave without saying goodbye. You're not like her. That's why we're going to be different."

Karen wished she could be as easily convinced as Grace. She wished that she could go about this with such simplicity. But she had seen too much before, been through too much. The shattered promises, the abandonment, the heartbreak. She didn't want to put Grace through that, especially not after she knew how much it hurt. Sure, they never set their feelings in stone, but there was some general knowledge that this was more than a mere friendship. And if it wasn't known after last night, she didn't know what to do.

She looked at Grace, saw the promise of better days in her eyes, but she knew that at any moment, with one wrong move, she would be the one to steal it away. And she didn't know if she could handle that.

"Maybe I should go. I think I'm only hurting you," she whispered. Grace tilted her head to look at her for a moment as she started to get out of bed before she pulled her back in, gave her a little smile and buried herself into Karen's side.

"Then don't think."


	10. Bleeding Rivers

"_I know that you choose where you want to be.  
Choose the heart of gold and not the one for free.  
Choose the heart of the past, belonging not to me.  
But no matter how hard I try,  
I can't seem to win this fight.  
I seem to be further behind  
Than I was when I met you."  
~Copper Wimmin, "Bleeding Rivers"_

_September 1998_

I still have the dress, you know.

When I moved in with Danny, not long after you left (and I did it because I didn't know what else to do…you were supposed to save me from that, and you didn't. It was the only thing left I could think of to do), and I started unpacking my clothes, I came across it and couldn't help but hesitate. I felt the fabric rustling between my fingers, and the memory of our first time speeding around my mind. The way you slipped the straps off my shoulders. The way your lips felt against my stomach. The way I bent to your touch. At that moment, I wanted that more than anything else and I despised you for leaving because I would no longer be able to get it.

Danny eventually found me standing at the closet he cleared out for me, the dress in my hands and a blank stare in my eyes. He took the dress out of my grasp, held it up in confusion. "When did you get this?" he asked. The question had no suspicion or bitter feelings in it whatsoever, but I couldn't help but feel absolutely and ruthlessly interrogated. "I've never seen you wear it before. It's pretty."

I jerked back into reality, looked at him standing next to me. "I, uh…I don't remember, actually." It was a horrible attempt, my voice faltered, but he seemed to take it. "I've had it for a while, though. I just haven't really had a lot of opportunities to wear it."

"Well, maybe I'll just have to make an opportunity for you to wear it. Maybe take you out somewhere more upscale. I bet you look gorgeous in this." He handed the dress back to me and I put it on a hanger, and hid it in the darkest corner of the closet, for fear of perpetual flashbacks every time I try to plan an outfit.

I never wore the dress for him. I haven't worn the dress since that night.

I remember the morning after that night, how we shared a cigarette as you told me about your heartbreaking past. That woman who took advantage of you…I think you said her name was Delia, something gorgeous and unusual like that. And you told me about how she took you in, and you fell in love, and she left you. You were so afraid that you would only repeat those actions with me. That you were a fool for believing her. I told you that we weren't going to be like that, and I fully believed that. And you seemed to believe it too.

But now here I am. I met you already behind in the race. And I became your lover—even without titles, we both knew what we were to each other—feeling like I was starting to move forward. But you left. I'm here now without you. And I feel further behind than I was before I ever saw you in that dive bar.

Now who's the fool?

All of this is racing through my mind as I watched you from across the office this morning, the phone receiver nestled between your ear and your shoulder as you painted your nails. I didn't want to listen, but there was nowhere else for me to go. I heard you make a reservation for two at the restaurant. _The_ restaurant. The one you took me to when I asked you to show me a piece of your life, what it was like to live in your world. You probably don't remember ever taking me, but I sure as hell do. You could have waited until I left for lunch. You could have waited until you thought I wasn't in the room. But you picked up the phone with me sitting at my desk, made some condescending small talk to whoever answered on the other end, and set up a little date night for you and your husband.

The silence after you hung up the phone was suffocating, but I didn't know how to break it at first. I wanted to avoid any mention of your husband, the restaurant, any of it. But I knew that there wasn't any way around it.

"Night out with Stan?" I asked. It wasn't even a full sentence; I knew I wouldn't be capable of that. You picked the heart of gold, the one that came with money as well as a price. And I still can't handle it.

"Yeah," you replied with a hint of…was that sheepishness? "He wanted to go out to this restaurant, so I thought I would surprise him." You paused for a moment. "Things have been a little rocky, lately…not too bad, but still not like it normally is." And how is it normally, Karen? You complained about your relationship with him throughout our time together. And yet here you are, planning some romantic dinner for him. "I thought this might be something to help us get back on track."

"I'm sorry to hear about that," I said. But I couldn't figure out how much of that was actually true.

All of this was marinating in my mind as I made my way back to Will's; he was so generous as to let me stay with him. I couldn't handle Danny (again) and he offered me the spare bedroom. Rob and Ellen came over for a game night tonight. I'm so in awe of them. They've broken up and gotten back together more times than I can count, and yet there's still an immense amount of love there, and you know that they're going to be okay. I wish I could be like them. But I can't. And I knew that. It just took me until now to realize it.

I have to end things with Danny. And I have to do it now.

I waited until Rob and Ellen left. And as I was getting ready to leave, Will stopped me. "Sweetie," he called as I opened the front door. There has always been something soothing about Will; maybe that's what drew me to him in the first place, why I wanted to be his girlfriend so badly in college, why I wanted to keep him in my life even after he broke my heart. I feel like he's the level-headed one in the friendship. Always there to make sure I know what I'm doing. "Are you sure about this?"

I knew he was never a big fan of Danny. But he knew there was something about him I couldn't resist. And he supported it anyway. "I have to do this, Will. The time away from that apartment cleared my head. It put everything in perspective. It's going to be okay."

And I was out the door, taking my fate in my own hands.

Danny looked shocked when he opened the door to find me on the other side. I hadn't exactly called ahead to let him know I was coming over. I didn't want to give myself more time to back out of it, so I went straight for the subway towards his—is it bad that after three years, I can't even say _our_?—apartment. "I wasn't expecting to see you tonight," he said. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know." I really don't. "Can I come in? We need to talk about something."

"Gracie, it's your apartment too. You don't need to ask to come in. And I was actually going to call you to see if we could meet somewhere. There's something I want to talk to you about, too."

"You go first," I told him. I looked around the apartment for a moment in complete amazement. All my stuff was here, everything I would need to consider calling a place home, but these rooms, this space, felt like anything but. I don't know how to explain it. On the surface, I called it home for nearly three years. But it was a lie. I knew exactly what I wanted home to feel like, and this wasn't it.

What it felt to be in your arms with your kiss still on my skin. That's what home is supposed to feel like.

Danny pulled a small box out of his back pocket, opened it up and took a peek inside. It looked a lot like…oh god. He turned it towards me. It looks nothing like the one that was on your finger when I met you. Then again, I've never known the money Stan has before I met you. "I was trying to figure out," he started, "when I wanted to do this and how I wanted to do this. And I was so close to doing it before you went to stay with Will. I know now that this is what I want more than anything else. The time away from you made me realize how much I miss you when you're gone. And I don't want you to be gone anymore. So it doesn't matter when I wanted to do this and how. What matters is that you say yes." He got down on one knee. God help me, he's down on one knee. "Grace, will you marry me?"

I looked into his eyes, so filled with hope and light towards the future he wanted us to build together, and all that I did to prepare myself to let him down had gone out the window. Do you remember when you were talking about him at the restaurant? I doubt it. You wanted me to name something sweet he had done for me, and at that time, I couldn't think of any recent examples.

If you acknowledged our past, if you remembered who I was, and if you still wanted an example, I would give you this. But it still doesn't mean that he doesn't make me hurt.

"Yes." It was meek, quiet, and half-hearted, but it was there. How could I say no, after that speech? How could I let him down after he had bared more of his soul than he ever had before? There was no way I could punish him for that. So in turn, I only punish myself by accepting. He took me in his arms, pressed his lips against mine and slipped the ring on my finger. I smiled for him, but he didn't seem to see through it.

"Will you stay the night with me?"

It was such a simple request. And so much smaller than the one he just asked for. There was no use in denying him now; I had already agreed to make the biggest commitment I could possibly make to him. And as much as I wanted to take it back, I knew I never could.

Normal people are supposed to be happy. Normal people are supposed to be calling their parents with the news. Normal people pop champagne and celebrate the prospect of a new beginning.

All I can think of is you, and wondering if you felt this wrong when you said yes to Stan.

All I can think of is you, and the fact that with one simple word, I pushed myself so much further behind than I was when I first met you.


	11. Fairytale

"_Money can burn  
And money can talk,  
But it's love that makes the girl  
Get up and walk.  
Ah, all I want is my turn.  
Yeah, I could be happy just living to learn.  
So take me, we'll run away,  
Out of this town 'til it fades.  
And they'll say we're wrong,  
But with you I'm alright either way."  
~Court Yard Hounds, "Fairytale"_

_December 1994_

It was perfect, absolutely perfect.

When Karen told her that she was going to take them away from the city for a while, Grace couldn't help but be excited; she couldn't handle Manhattan lately. She didn't get specifics; only that she should pack some clothes and a few essentials, and that she should trust her. And despite everything telling her that she shouldn't, she trusted her. So she packed her bags and waited for Karen to whisk her away from her problems, just like she always did. And she didn't tell him that she would be gone.

Danny started asking questions this week, about where she was all the time, who she was with. If she met someone else—"Just tell me, Grace, it's better if you're honest about it." She denied it up and down, and eventually felt required to at least get a few dates in with him. But it wasn't until he said something that she realized just how much she neglected him lately. And she realized that despite her best efforts, she was slowly becoming the person she was trying to avoid.

What surprised her the most was how okay she was with it. After the night Karen brought Grace into her world and spent the night with her, Grace started to be a little more outgoing. Slipping her hand around Karen's in public. Stealing a quick kiss at any random time. But she still showed restraint, she still wouldn't put her feelings into words and she stopped Karen whenever she tried to do the same. It scared her and exhilarated her at the same time; she still didn't know anything about this woman, save for the few problems and stories she filled Grace in on. Yet she was completely addicted. It was a seductive little game that she tried not to get pulled into, but she couldn't help herself. Even with Karen telling her the story of how this happened to her before, she couldn't help herself.

And she was starting to realize that she didn't want to.

Karen took her to a remote cabin in Vermont. Stan was off to Seattle on business and would stay there over Christmas; part of her desire to whisk Grace away was the fear of being alone. But the main reason was that she knew that Grace needed a break, and she longed to be the one to give it to her. Grace walked into the cabin with eyes of wonder. "This place is beautiful," she said as she looked around. Soon, her eyes locked with Karen's. "You are so sweet to want to bring me up here."

"You've just seemed so overwhelmed lately. I didn't know if it was because of work, or Danny. Or me. I just wanted to take your mind off of it."

"It's not you, you have to know that." Well. On some level, maybe it was. If she was confused on how to act around Karen before the night they made love, she was hopelessly lost on the subject now. Yes, she started to be a little more outgoing, but not without a sense of awkwardness. She had bared herself completely to Karen; to close back up now would be insulting. But to close back up would be the safest thing to do. To close back up would mean that she wasn't doing anything wrong, that she wouldn't be deceiving the one she supposedly loved. All of this left her in a state of in-between, outrageous yet safe, daring yet quiet. And insecure. Forever insecure.

Maybe she should just get used to it.

They spent their first day together going into town and picking out a Christmas tree, hauling it back to the cabin. Karen insisted on being the one to set it up, leaving Grace to sit on the couch nearby and watch. Watching as she set the tree in the stand, as she stood on the tips of her toes to check to make sure the tree wasn't in danger of tipping over. Karen's sweater rode up above her waist for a moment as she did that, leaving skin exposed that Grace had at one time kissed. She couldn't stop staring. She couldn't stop the memory of how soft her skin felt that night. She couldn't stop…

Get a hold of yourself, Grace. You're going to slip further if you keep it up.

"I think we have some ornaments and decorations upstairs," Karen said after she took a breath and stepped backwards to take a look at her handiwork. "We spent a couple Christmases up here, so they should be hiding in a few boxes somewhere. I definitely bought some things for around the house, but Stan was never one for decorating the place like that, so I never used them."

"Well, we can take a look at what kind of decorations you've got, but why don't we just go back into town and get new ornaments for the tree?" she asked. Karen turned to look at her, a bit puzzled. "That way, it's strictly ours. Not memories of the past masquerading as ours." Grace watched the smile grow wider on Karen's face as she moved closer, wrapped her arms around her in a hug. She smelled faintly of gardenia; Grace became intoxicated and knew that at that moment, she would do anything for her.

"Do you want to sort through the boxes while I go out? Or do you want to come with me?"

"I can stay here. Surprise me," Grace said with a smile, as if she hadn't been completely surprised by Karen the entire time they've known each other. She felt Karen's lips brush softly and quickly against her cheek before she walked out the door.

God, she should have gone with her.

She was left alone sitting on the floor by the tree, not only with boxes of Christmas decorations that have never been put to use, but with thoughts of exactly what she was doing here. Picking through garlands and mistletoe, she realized that these were once dreams Karen had of a home with Stan; dreams that were shot down, but dreams nonetheless. There was a time when she put everything she had into her marriage. And, if it weren't for Grace's presence, she would probably still put all she had into it. She thought back to what Karen had said the morning after they had made love a month ago, after the cigarette was put out, after everything was on the table. "I think I'm only hurting you." Karen wouldn't say why, only that it was on her mind. But maybe she got it wrong. Maybe it was the other way around.

Maybe Grace was hurting her. All the push and pull, the stop and start, the back and forth. It had to be exhausting for her. They both had someone who loved them, who wanted to share their life with them. Why the hell wasn't that enough? Why are they doing this to each other?

How can you make sense of something that was so illogical to begin with?

Grace lay down on the floor by the tree, her back against the hardwood, and sighed. It was like a thousand-piece puzzle that was one solid color. And once you thought you had it figured out, you realize that there's one piece missing. Every time she thinks she knows what's going on with Karen, something derails her confidence, and she's back where she started. It would be so easy to give up.

Perhaps that would be best, anyway.

Whether it was the exhaustion from the trip up to the cabin or the exhaustion from the thoughts racing through her mind, Grace fell asleep on the floor against her will, among the boxes, the garlands spread out on the floor around her, and the reminder that they were doing something criminal.

Karen eventually walked through the front door carrying bags of ornaments for the tree, complete with a star for the top. "Gracie? Where are you?" she called out, wanting to show her the things she ended up with, hoping Grace would like them as much as she did. She set the bags on the couch, and as she did, she looked over the furniture to find a sleeping Grace sprawled out on the floor. Quietly, she let out a little laugh and made her way over to the tree. It amazed her how beautiful she looked even in complete exhaustion.

She knelt down on the floor beside Grace, planted a kiss on her forehead as her hair brushed against Grace's cheek. "Hey, Fashion Doll," she said softly. "Time to wake up. I didn't realize I was out so long."

Grace slowly started to open her eyes, smiled when she found Karen hovering over her. "When did you get in?" she said with a voice that was still waking up.

"Just now. Does this mean you're my Christmas gift?" Grace scrunched her face up in confusion. Karen laughed. "Gracie," she said, "you fell asleep under the tree."

She looked up, away from Karen, to find the bottom branches just above her head. She couldn't help but laugh. "Well, in that case, maybe I am," she said with a grin.

"Well, in that case…it's the best gift I've ever gotten."

When Karen leaned in to kiss Grace, there wasn't confusion. There wasn't stress. There wasn't doubt. There was only the kiss, the touch, Karen's fingers coming to rest woven with Grace's as she lay down with her. If it were possible, anyone could walk in right now and say that what they were doing was wrong, criminal. But at that moment, any trouble Grace had with the situation was wiped away.

She felt alright with Karen.

And realizing this caused Karen to inadvertently break down the second wall.


	12. To Hell with the World

"_And the band's playing tunes that mean nothing to you,  
But you can dance better than the devil, you know.  
All along, I was taught to keep my head above the water,  
But I might just prefer it below."  
~David Ford, "To Hell with the World"_

_December 1994/January 1995_

It was all Grace could do to keep from spilling it all.

She felt it at her lips all throughout the week. It crept up when she woke up to Karen's presence hovering over her that first night. It tried to slip four days ago when she walked downstairs in the morning to find that she had breakfast all laid out for them, an intense labor of love that didn't go unnoticed. She started to say it, but covered it up, two days ago when she could feel Karen's heartbeat against her ear while they were lying in bed. And she almost said it now, in the furthest back corner of the bar they wandered into to watch the New Year's festivities of their homeland with all the others, just because Karen was standing there with a wine glass in her hand, and the light hit her in the most beautiful way.

Karen ran her hand down to the small of Grace's back—Grace loved the way that it still gave her chills coursing through her body every time—and whispered into her ear despite the laughter and conversation around them. "We don't have to stay here," she said. "I just figured you'd want to get out of the cold for a little while."

Grace gave her a sweet smile. "No, it's fine. Besides..." she started, ready to crack a joke, "you just want to get me tipsy and take me home, anyway. Might as well stay for a little longer so that can happen."

Karen laughed softly into her ear. God, that was the sweetest sound she had ever heard. She could leave this world with Karen's laughter being the last sound she ever heard in her life, and she would be a very happy woman. "How did you figure out my hidden agenda?" she quipped with her voice full of light.

"I catch on quick," she replied, sending them into a small fit of laughter.

Vermont became something of a new beginning. Something to crack the shell and let a happier human being emerge. It was one big play land, dressing up and playing house with someone else, trying it on for size. A glimpse of what she could have if she were solely with Karen, and unashamed. And she had to admit that she loved it. It made her think that if she were forced to choose, she would run into Karen's arms and tell Danny it was over. She started to realize it that first night, after she woke up and started decorating the tree with Karen. It became clearer and clearer as the nights went on and they relaxed in each other's arms by the fire with coffee or wine. But it was at its clearest now, as the neon signs in the bar made Karen's hair glow garish shades of blue and green and her touch was on Grace's back. She could feel it at her lips again, fighting to break free. She bit down on her lower lip too hard, wincing at the shock of the pain.

She had fallen in love with Karen. She just didn't want to say that she had.

It would have messed everything up if she did. It would go against the unspoken rules. So she didn't do anything about it, just went on like it didn't become blatantly obvious to her. It killed her, but she knew it was for the best. But that didn't mean she couldn't be a little more forward with her.

She was slowly sinking under the water. But she liked it better that way.

"Are you okay?" Karen's voice jerked her back into reality and she turned to look at her. "I think I lost you for a little bit." How was it that a smile on Karen's face took all the things she disliked most in life and threw them away in an instant?

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just drifted off into my own little world for a second."

Karen turned her gaze to the television hanging above the bar, the sound blaring. Some band she had never heard of was playing a song minutes before the ball was set to drop. "Here, let me take that," she said, grabbing Grace's almost empty glass of wine and setting it on the ground along with hers. She stood across from her, waiting. "Come here," she said with a smile, taking Grace's hand before wrapping her arms around her waist. As soon as she felt Grace's arms around her neck, she started to sway, the two of them dancing in the back of the bar.

Grace's smile grew wider and she looked around, to see if anyone was watching. "They're not paying attention to us," Karen said. "They're watching the television, they could care less what we do." She was right; everyone else had a drink in hand, eyes glued to the screen as they waited for a glimpse of Times Square and the ball that brings in the New Year. And she was the only one privileged enough to be able to feel Karen move against her body. Oh, how she loved the way she moved.

She turned her gaze back to Karen and her hazel eyes. Damn, those hazel eyes. She didn't even need the wine, she could get intoxicated by those alone. "Thank you for this," she said softly. "The trip, I mean. It's more than I ever could have asked for."

"You deserved a little time away. I just wanted to give you what you deserve."

"I can't believe we have to leave in two days." Grace gave a little sigh, let a lull in conversation go by. She wasn't sure if she should continue, but at this point, there was nothing to lose. "You know, last year, I went over to Danny's to celebrate. I thought it was going to be this romantic evening, just the two of us. And it was just the two of us. But all we did was sit on the couch sipping bad champagne watching the ball drop. We barely made any conversation."

"I hope this makes up for it," Karen said with a smile.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." She paused again, mainly out of frustration for herself. The evening was perfect; why bring up Danny? How was it that it always came back to him, one way or another? She longed to change the subject, spoke the first thing she thought. "What would happen if we just never went back to Manhattan? If we stayed here together?" she asked meekly.

"Well…"Karen started. "Stan probably wouldn't notice, but I know you'd be missed." She stopped for a moment to give Grace a smile with her crimson lips. "Why would you want to stay in that cabin cooped up with me forever, anyway?"

"Because it's you." No hesitation. Just the truth.

"You're putting me up on a pedestal I shouldn't be on," Karen said quietly, almost ashamed of herself.

"I'm not putting you up on a pedestal. I'm only working with what I know. And I know that this has been the best week I've had in a long time. I know that when I've woken up in the mornings, I don't feel the weight I usually do when I wake up in Manhattan. I know that when you look at me, you wipe away any negative thoughts and replace them with the best things. I know that you make me happy."

She watched as Karen laughed in disbelief. "Do you realize that the things you just said are the most compliments I've gotten in such a long time?" Karen pulled Grace in closer as she continued. "Sometimes I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like every cliché in the book. I feel invisible, even when he's lying in bed next to me. Especially when he's lying in bed next to me. I can't remember the last conversation we had. I can't remember the last time we went out together. I just want to be noticed once in a while."

"I notice." Grace brushed Karen's hair away from her face. "I definitely notice." Her lips brushed against Karen's as they swayed from side to side, and she knew that not only had she completely submerged, but she also didn't care about keeping her head above the water anymore. "I can't believe what you do to me sometimes," she whispered when she pulled away. "I don't think you know exactly what you're capable of."

"You're going to get yourself into trouble, Gracie."

Grace shook her head. "I don't care about that now. All I care about is that I'm here with you, and I don't want to be anywhere else." She turned her gaze for a quick moment back to the others inhabiting the bar; their eyes were still glued to the television screen as the band ended their song and the countdown began. "Do you regret that you're going to ring in the New Year like this?" she asked suddenly, almost as if everything that was leading up to the moment hadn't happened.

"Of course not," Karen said. "I know I'm spending it with the right person."

"Everyone here could look back at us, the world could see us at any given moment, and tell us that we're wrong." Grace knew she was falling, even if she wouldn't admit it out loud. She knew that she would do anything for Karen and she knew that all she wanted to do was be around her. But she wanted to make sure she was falling for someone who was open to it, who was possibly falling too. It was the only reason why she asked.

"Well, then to hell with them," Karen replied. And she knew that she would be okay.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

The ball dropped, the crowd in the bar cheered, hugged the ones they came with. Grace could care less about the ball, about watching what was going on in Times Square. She kept her eyes on Karen as she was kissed by the crimson lips that drew her attention in the first place. When they pulled away, Karen smiled. "Let's get out of here, spend some time alone," she said as she took Grace by the hand and started to lead her towards the door.

Grace nodded and followed. "Happy New Year, Karen," she said once they were outside of the bar, as she link her arm with Karen's.

"Happy New Year, Fashion Doll."


	13. Alibi

"_But if I've left something out,  
I apologize.  
But if you look in my eyes,  
Then I'm sure you'll see  
Alibis, alibis, alibis…"  
~Elvis Costello, "Alibi"_

_January 1995_

"You know, you were pretty popular while you were gone. You were asked about a lot."

Will finished clearing the table after dinner; Michael was working late tonight, and he thought it would be a perfect night to have Grace over. She wasn't acting like herself lately; it may have been unnoticeable to most, but he had been in her life for so long that one slight change in action became blatantly obvious to him. And then she took off without notice for a little over a week, came back after New Year's. It was something he never thought she would ever do. He wanted to get to the bottom of it, but subtly, and while they were alone.

"Who asked about me?"

"Your boyfriend." Silence. He could tell he struck a chord with Grace; the look on her face changed into one of a mixture of annoyance, frustration, and sadness. He set the dishes in the sink and took a seat at the table next to her, took her hands in his. "What's going on, Grace? You haven't been yourself. And don't tell me I'm overreacting. Where did you go last week? Why didn't you tell anyone you were going to be out of town? We were seriously worried about you."

"I…I went to Vermont. A friend of mine has a cabin up there. It was a spur of the moment thing, I didn't think to tell anyone. I just needed to get away." Grace was meek, quiet, almost whispering. Her time with Karen in Vermont was more than she ever could have imagined. Waking up with her at Christmas. Ringing in the New Year with a kiss from someone who actually cared. Nights curled up by the fireplace and days going into town and walking hand in hand with the cold biting at their skin. The more she let Karen in, the more she realized how much she wanted her. But, eventually, with that realization always came the realization that she had to deal with Danny somehow. She was falling deeper into the hole she dug for herself and she couldn't save herself.

"From what? From Danny, from work, from life, what?"

"No, I just…" She stopped as she lowered her head, her gaze falling to her lap, not wanting to look at him while she admitted to her hopelessness. The entire conversation was difficult in itself, but she knew that if she started to talk about this, it would be harder, and she didn't think she'd have the courage to look at him. "I don't know what to do anymore. About anything."

Will hesitated for a moment before speaking again, unsure if he was ready for the answer to the question he was about to ask. He always had Grace up on a pedestal since the moment he met her; sure she had her flaws, everyone did, but she never seemed to be the one to do any kind of harm to anyone. But he knew he had to ask.

"Did you meet someone?"

Grace's head shot up as she locked eyes with him. God, how does he do that? How does he accidentally hit the nail right on the head every time? But, no. She technically didn't "meet someone" in the terms that he obviously meant. She wasn't a girlfriend to more than one person. Karen wasn't her girlfriend; they already established that. They might occasionally go through the motions, but they weren't together.

"No, I didn't meet someone. I'm just thinking that the entire reason I'm with Danny is just so I don't have to be alone. And if that's true, then I don't want to string him along, and I certainly don't want to keep wasting my time. I'm just confused, that's all." That was the understatement of the century, but it seemed to satiate Will.

"You know you can talk to me," he said as he got up and started washing the dishes.

Grace nodded, but she knew that that could never happen.

* * *

For the life of her, she couldn't figure out where she put the damn spare key. She found the tiny envelope she kept it in, but it wasn't inside, and after tearing apart the junk drawer, she found out that it was gone. So she made a trip, had a new copy made before she was to meet Karen for coffee in Greenwich Village. Ever since Vermont, she had the overwhelming desire to give her the spare key. She didn't completely understand what it meant, but she figured there would be no harm in it.

She said no to her for the first time last night. And in the end, she wished she would have blown Will off to see her. She left his apartment more lost than when she entered. And she knew that he didn't mean for that to happen, but it did. And it wouldn't leave her mind for the longest time. But when she walked into the coffeehouse and saw Karen in the fluorescent light with a smile on her crimson lips and two drinks on the table, it started to vanish.

"I ordered your favorite," Karen said as Grace sat down across from her and pulled the cappuccino closer to her. God, it amazed her that Karen remembered that; all this time with Danny, and he couldn't tell you what she ordered almost every time she stopped at a coffeehouse. "How was dinner last night?"

"Exhausting," she replied. "I should have been with you last night."

"Gracie, as much as I love spending time with you, you can't alienate yourself from everyone else in your life. And you're starting to, we both know that."

Grace looked into her drink. "I know," she admitted. "I don't even realize I'm doing it sometimes. It's just that I know that when I'm with you, I don't have to think about anything that's going wrong in my life. I feel so much lighter. Happier." She let out a little laugh. "Which is so strange, because I don't even know what we're doing here. Sometimes you make me more confused than I already am."

"Well, that makes two of us," Karen said with a smile.

"We should go somewhere after we're finished here. Anywhere, I don't care. You always take me to the best places."

At that moment, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure walk into the coffeehouse, but she paid no mind. It was a busy place, despite how small it was; people were constantly coming and going. But the figure wouldn't leave her sight. It wanted her attention, needed it. And Grace finally gave in.

Damn it.

"At least you decided to come back from wherever the hell it was you were all week."

The confused look on Karen's face turned into one of surprised realization as soon as Grace said the name. "Danny, do you really want to do this now? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was walking by and I could have sworn I saw someone who looked a lot like you through the window, so I decided to check it out. And if we don't do this now, we might not do it ever. It's getting harder and harder to get a spot in your apparently busy schedule. God, Grace. You know I was sitting alone in your apartment so many times in the past week waiting for you to come home, and you never did? I was worried about you. You didn't tell me where you were going, and Will didn't know where you were. You could have at least told me that you were going out of town."

Grace closed her eyes and winced. At least now she knew what she did with the first spare key. She had nothing to say to him.

"Who's this?" she heard him ask. When she opened her eyes, she saw Karen's open, speechless mouth as Danny pointed a finger towards her. "Is this who you're spending all your time with? Is this why you keep telling me you're busy? Are you…you're not seeing her, are you?"

"No! Are you even listening to yourself right now?" She didn't want to cause a scene, but she knew her voice was rising. "There is nothing going on, whatsoever. Karen is just a friend, that's all."

It shouldn't have hit her hard. It shouldn't have been a shock to her. But it did. And it was. Karen could feel the lump in her throat as the tears were starting to form. She knew that Grace was only trying to save face, that if it were any other circumstance, she wouldn't have said it. They made it clear all the time that they technically were never "together," never a couple. Then why did it hurt so much? Why was it that when she thought of the intimacy, and then thought of Grace's statement, it pierced her chest? It was an alibi. Purely an alibi. But it was an alibi that stung, an alibi that she could see right through. She wondered if Danny could, too.

But she wasn't going to stick around for that.

A single tear made its way down her cheek, and she wiped at it furiously, pissed at herself that she was doing this now. At least wait until she was gone. "I, uh…" she started, her voice faltering intensely, "I think I'm going to go. I shouldn't be here." She got up and took her mug to the counter.

"Karen, don't…" Grace said as Karen walked past the table on her way out. She tried to get a hold on Karen's arm, to get her to stay. But her grip was too weak, and Karen slid right through it.

She watched as Karen walked out the door, into the cold January air. She closed her eyes, beating herself up on the inside over all of this, wishing that she would come back, so she could apologize and move on. When she opened her eyes again, Danny was sitting in her place.

And she knew her wish wouldn't come true.


	14. Baby Can I Hold You

"'_I love you' is all that you can't say.  
Years gone by and still  
Words don't come easily,  
Like 'I love you,' 'I love you.'  
But you can say, 'Baby,  
Baby can I hold you tonight?'  
Maybe if I told you the right words at the right time,  
You'd be mine."  
~Tracy Chapman, "Baby Can I Hold You"_

_January 1995_

If she had just said it, when she had the chance, things would have been completely different.

If she said it, she would have stayed the night in Grace's apartment when she dropped her off after Vermont (maybe). She would have seen her smile (maybe). She would have said that everything would be okay, after Grace expressed her fear of the unknown. They would have been brilliant. They would have.

But she didn't say it. She lost the chance, numerous times. And now she's down at Rockefeller Center, watching above as tourists and families skate on the rink below, freezing and regretting the fact that she didn't speak up.

She needed to be out, anywhere. Fresh, cold air, walking the streets of Manhattan, winding up in one of the most populated places in Midtown for a distraction, but it wasn't working. Karen tried to clear her mind, but she couldn't. All she could think of was how she shouldn't have walked away. She shouldn't have left Grace there all alone. And part of the reason she cut herself off was because she was so embarrassed that she let her down. The other part was the fact that it still hurt.

She was in love with Grace, she knew that now. But there was no way of ever letting Grace in on the fact.

Things can change in an instant. It's all Karen had ever known. There was the obvious one: the chance encounter with Grace at a dive bar she normally wouldn't have gone into. There was the one that kept coming back to the forefront: Delia's change of heart and swift exit. And then there was the one she didn't like to talk about, the one Grace wasn't aware of, the very first one: her father's death. She was only seven years old when it happened, but she grew up the moment her mother sat her down to tell her that Daddy wasn't coming home.

She grew up young. So why is she acting like a child now?

There was a happiness on the ice of Rockefeller Center that Karen just couldn't touch. Something in the air that got filtered out right before it reached her. She wondered if Grace had ever taken a few laps around the rink before. If Danny had ever been spontaneous and brought her here for a romantic afternoon. But as soon as she started picturing the two of them together, a hard jealousy formed in the pit of her stomach, mixed with guilt, and she knew that whatever peace she was trying to find wasn't going to be here. Hailing a cab, she made her way back to the home she shared with Stan, all along with the notion that she wanted to make things right again, as right as they could be in a situation that was morally wrong to begin with.

Karen needed to see her. Soon.

When she got back to her building, the doorman stopped her with a box in his hands. "Ms. Delaney?" he called out. When she first moved in, he had mistakenly called her "Mrs. Walker," as if they were already married, as if she had already given up. She had corrected him immediately with a slight cringe; the name never sounded right on her. She turned around to face him now, focusing on the package. "A redheaded woman stopped by, wanted me to give this to you."

Grace was here?

She took the box from his grip—a small little thing with purple ribbon tied around it—and gave him a soft "Thank you" before opening it. The ribbon rustled between her fingers as she untied it. Lifting the box, she let a little laugh of surprise slip from her lips.

Inside the box were three cigarettes, to help ease the situation at hand. Underneath those, a note in Grace's handwriting: _Forgive me? Come by tonight if you want._

Underneath the note was the key to Grace's apartment, a sign that the third wall was crumbling to the ground.

* * *

_Even when you're not around, you make me nervous. Even now, in the comfort of my home, my senses are heightened and I'm on edge, because of the mere possibility that you could walk through my door at any minute. And it's not because you scare me, because I don't think you do anymore. It's because I scare myself, knowing that despite my best efforts, I could let everything slip and ruin it in an instant. That is, if it hasn't already been ruined by Danny's untimely entrance at the coffeehouse._

Scribbling a line out, rewriting it. Killing time. It was pointless. She wouldn't show up. Of course she wouldn't. This mistake was too big to overlook. This mistake would be the fatal one. Even with the peace offering, this mistake would be the fatal one.

The clock on the wall of the living room let Grace know that it was two in the morning, and everyone else was probably in bed waiting for the promise of a new day. But she wasn't like everyone else; she was sprawled out on the couch, waiting for the forgiveness of a woman she didn't deserve. She had picked up a notebook lying on her coffee table and opened it to a blank page, started writing a letter to Karen. Even if it never made it to her eyes, at least she could get everything out. Maybe then she wouldn't feel this weight on her chest.

_If I had told you in Vermont when I first wanted to, when I woke up to find your beauty hovering over me and I smiled almost letting it out in a spurt of spontaneity, I might have been safe. We were by ourselves, we didn't have the troubles of the city looming over us. We didn't have the grave possibility that someone could walk in and take it all away. If I had told you then, you might have given it to me as well, and we would be in a completely different place than we are now. I was stupid; I thought that I wouldn't be safe in telling you in Vermont because of the rules we set in Manhattan. Now I realize that we were playing by a different set of rules in the cabin. But it's too late; we're no longer safe. We had to leave after a week, and we both saw what happened after that._

_Maybe my words are completely unnecessary. I wouldn't blame you if you thought they were. I always find myself skirting around the issue, and never attacking it head on, especially when it comes to you. But I'm sick of being nervous and I'm sick of being on edge. And I think if I tell you what I've been wanting to tell you for at least a week, we can finally reach that new level that I know we're both curious about._

_Either way, I think it's obvious. I…_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a key being turned in the lock on her front door. God. Even when she isn't speaking, she can never get out the fact that she's in love with Karen. In an instant, she realized that Danny could be on the other side of the door—she knew now that giving her key to two people might not have been the best idea—and she closed up the notebook and shoved it in between the couch cushions. Bracing herself, she looked to the front door, holding her breath as she watched it open.

"You know, I'd forgive you in a heartbeat if you actually did something wrong." Karen was standing in the doorway with the box Grace had left with the doorman this afternoon. "But it wasn't your fault. Not in the least."

"I didn't think you were going to show up," Grace said quietly as Karen made her way over to the couch and took a seat beside Grace. The notebook was nestled in the cushions beneath them, and she wondered if Karen would be able to feel them, so she wouldn't have to say them.

"I was going to be here no matter how long it took for me to get here. One of Stan's colleagues threw a party and we had to make an appearance. Otherwise I would have been here a lot earlier. I hope you didn't stay up waiting for me. I know it's late."

Silence.

"You know that's not how I feel about you," Grace suddenly said, referring back to her remark in the coffeehouse, that she and Karen were merely friends.

"I know. And I knew that when you said it. I knew that you were only trying to make him a little less angry. But something inside me took it harder than I wanted to. If anything, I should be asking you to forgive me. For more than this. I've done nothing but hurt you the entire time I've known you, even if you can't see it. And you still want to see me. I think it's crazy, but I love it." Karen offered her a smile after she said it, meek, a little guilty.

All Grace could do was shake her head, wrap her arms around Karen and kiss her cheek gently. "You need to start believing that you're not hurting me. You're not Delia. You never will be Delia. You know what she did, so you know what not to do. This isn't history being repeated. You should trust me."

Karen looked into her eyes. They were filled with all the trust in the world, and it was all for her. "I think I am." She watched Grace's smile grow wider as she brushed the red locks away from her face. "What do you want to do now?"

Grace bit her lower lip for a moment before she spoke. "Can I hold you tonight?"

Karen smiled as Grace wrapped her arms around her. They sat in silence as Grace kissed the crown of Karen's head and Karen listened to the beating lullaby of Grace's heart. This is how it was meant to be, Karen thought. This is how it always should be, not only for the two of them, but for everyone. Everyone deserved something like this.

It was the last thing she thought as they drifted off to sleep together on the couch.


	15. Simple Together

"_This grief overwhelms me.  
It burns in my stomach,  
And I can't stop bumping into things.  
I thought we'd be simple together.  
I thought we'd be happy together.  
Thought we'd be limitless together.  
I thought we'd be precious together,  
But I was sadly mistaken."  
~Alanis Morissette, "Simple Together"_

_September 1998_

There's a difference between you and me. Some people could put us side by side and rattle off a number of things that separates us, but I never took those things to heart; we were more similar than everyone would think us to be. But despite that, there's still a big difference between us. I filled you in on my impending marriage. I told you what Stan told me, and although it broke your heart and mine, we could prepare ourselves anyway. But you didn't tell me any of that when it happened to you. You never even told me you were engaged to Danny.

I didn't find out until you walked into the office in your wedding dress.

You rushed in, dressed in white from head to toe, and I froze in my seat. God, you were so beautiful. Even when you look completely stressed, with a little touch of misery (is that it?), you look beautiful. But I couldn't believe what I was seeing. All the things I remember you telling me about Danny made me believe that you would never pledge your heart to him. Even close to the end, you told me that he wasn't the one you saw yourself with. But here you were, racing to hand me a pile of things that needed to be faxed, mumbling under your breath. "I just needed to make a quick stop before City Hall. These need to get out today. I'm not going to be back, so whenever you're done with these, you can leave, but it's important that you send all of this out."

I looked at you with confusion. "Honey, what are you doing?"

You looked down at your outfit, looked back at me. "I'm getting married," stating the obvious with a hint of surprise that I didn't catch on to that fact yet. I may have imagined it, but it felt cold. An icy response to my query. "I just want to get it over with. I don't want some huge deal made out of it."

"Is that really something you should be saying before you marry him?"

"Look, if you're going to get philosophical with me, I don't have time for it. The limo's waiting, Danny's waiting. I need to leave if I'm going to make it on time." You sounded like you wanted to go, but you didn't move. Is this what it has to come down to in order to get you to remember me? "You think I'm making a mistake?" you said meekly.

"I can't tell you what to do." And before I knew it, it slipped from my lips. "I just know that the times you've been away from him were the times that your soul was free."

I could feel your eyes on me. And it was at that moment I knew I had gotten to you. At that moment, I knew that you were starting to remember. Maybe you started when you first hired me—I looked a little familiar but you couldn't place me—and it started to grow, but you questioned yourself. And you couldn't simply ask me—"I'm sorry, but did we have a fairly complicated fling, say, three years ago?"—because of the risk of getting it wrong; there would be no way you could bounce back from that if I weren't who you thought I was. Call it my little way of letting you know that I'm exactly who you may think I am. Call it a little late. But it's out there now. Do with it what you will.

You were about to say something, I knew you were. I may have taken you by surprise, but I could hear you take a breath, some semblance of a word trying to make its way out. But you stopped it entirely and walked out the door, ready to give your heart to someone who wouldn't appreciate it as much as I have.

As much as I still do.

I did what you asked while you were gone, absent-mindedly and with a few mistakes. I just couldn't take my mind off of you. Was it this hard to concentrate for you when I told you Stan had set a date? Or would I have had to show up at your door in a wedding dress for that to happen? Even though I had finished what you asked me to, I couldn't leave; I was still trying to process the image you left me with. Still trying to process the fact that any attempt at making you remember who I was, what we had together, would be futile. Still trying to process the fact that any attempt at rekindling whatever it was we had together would be a waste of time.

In all honesty, I thought that we were over after Vermont, once we were nearly caught by Danny and you tried to avoid defeat. Even after your peace offering, we were a little shaky. We had always thought that on some level, we were invincible. No one caught on to the fact that we broke a few rules to get what we wanted. And then he showed up at the coffeehouse, crushing it in one swift move. When I left the two of you, part of me felt like I wouldn't be seeing you again.

But you surprised me, like you always do. You gave me the key to your apartment. You let me in. And we tried to make things right again. It took a little while, but we got back on track. Even with the bumps in the road, we couldn't be stopped. We would always find our bearings and keep going.

Until the night I left, after seeing just how much I destroyed you over the months.

We could have been brilliant together, had I followed through on what I suggested that day in Central Park, before it started to rain and we tried to find someplace dry. It may have been stupid, childish, implausible, but you seemed to believe it just as much as I had. Maybe we could have actually made it work. Maybe we could have found a way to escape, like you wanted to when we were in Vermont, and just stay together, the two of us, for the rest of our days. We could be simple, without all the things that weigh me down with Stan. Happy, without all the heartbreak you've had with Danny. We could have been able to do anything we put our minds to. And for a while, I thought that this was a definite possibility. But I was wrong.

I'm sorry if I killed your fantasies. The grief I have about it all kills me sometimes, if that's any consolation at all. It probably isn't, but right now, that's all I'm able to give you.

All of this is running through my head as your friend Will walked in, asking for you. It had been a couple of hours since you left for City Hall, and just as I was filling him in on your whereabouts, you come in, tears in your eyes and an angry glare for Will. You didn't care that I was still here; you were perfectly fine with playing this out in front of an audience. Because you never fill me in on your life anymore—and I would never expect you to, anyway—I watched on as the two of you had your words. Will didn't approve of the marriage—he has a good head on his shoulders—and because of that, you decided not to go through with it.

God, that was such a relief. I couldn't bear to walk back in here knowing that you were a married woman.

After a while, Will left, leaving the two of us alone, once again. I looked at you for a moment, the silence overwhelming us, before shifting my gaze to my lap. Better to just wait until you leave again before doing anything.

"Will wasn't the only reason I didn't go through with it," you said, a start to an explanation I didn't ask for. "I remember who you are. I always have. And I couldn't get what you said to me before I left out of my head." My gaze shot back up to you. "You were right. I shouldn't be marrying someone when I think it's a chore. I remember when you took me to Vermont, and how I felt completely free. It was something I was looking for everywhere, and I finally found it. But when it disappeared, I just decided to settle with Danny. Because he can be the cause of so much heartbreak sometimes, but he stuck with me even when I completely neglected him. How often can you find that?"

"What do you want me to say, Grace?" My voice was breaking, and I knew I wasn't coming off as confident as I wanted. "That I'm proud of you for finally realizing something that was so obvious from day one? Do you want me to apologize for putting you through hell?"

"No, that's not it. I just wanted you to know that I finally did it. I finally did what we were hinting at all those years ago. But it doesn't matter anyway."

"What do you mean, it doesn't matter?"

"I left him. But it was three years too late. You're married, you're happy. You found something in him that you couldn't part from. And I spent way too much time trying to find that in Danny. There's nothing more I can do. I had an image in my mind of how this could have gone, when you were only engaged and we were thinking of leaving it all. But it's not going to happen. And I feel completely dismantled again."

And with that, you were gone.

I don't know what kind of reaction you were looking for in me, but I certainly know what I was feeling inside at that moment. There was a shock and surprise that you still remembered me, after all these years, after weeks of pretending you never saw my face before. There was pride; Gracie, I am so proud of you for finally sticking up for what you want. But then all of that was crushed by an overwhelming sadness, a grief that comes in waves that I can never fully escape. Sadness for the fact that the dreams I had of us together could have really taken shape if it weren't for my misstep. Sadness for the fact that even after setting yourself free, you can't take joy in it.

Sadness for the fact that even three years later, I'm still hurting you.

I want to make it right.

I remember that time I thought we were over, after Vermont, when you left a peace offering with my doorman. Those three cigarettes, the note, the key. All I know is that I need to see you again, alone, so I can try to make things better, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes for you to agree to meet with me. I may be stealing from your playbook. I may be putting myself out there. But it doesn't matter. So long as I finally get to tell you what I've been wanting to tell you ever since I first walked through the office doors.

That you have never stopped being Fashion Doll to me.


	16. The Luckiest

"_I don't get many things right the first time.  
In fact, I am told that a lot.  
Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls  
Brought me here.  
And where was I before the day  
That I first saw your lovely face?  
Now I see it every day,  
And I know  
That I am, I am, I am  
The luckiest."  
~Ben Folds, "The Luckiest"_

_April 1995_

One night, when they first started spending time together and she first started to sleep in his bed, she told him how she pictured her next wedding to be, if in fact she ever got married again. She didn't want a huge, unnecessary celebration, which is what she got the first time around, and she didn't want something that was merely a quick process at City Hall, which is what she got the second time. She wanted something in between, something that was meaningful but not extravagant.

And he really thought he figured it out.

Stan hated the fact that he spent more time at the office lately—time he could have spent with Karen—and he knew that she wasn't thrilled either. But he wanted to keep it all a surprise until he had enough of the details planned out to give her a definite idea of what he wanted to give her. He knew that given his connections, he'd be able to pull some strings and book whatever venue she wanted. He figured out the caterer and the flowers (Karen's favorite, of course), with enough time to figure out the rest in time. When he laid it all out in front of him now, at home on the kitchen table, he took pride in the work he had achieved thus far. All he needed to hear was a yes from Karen.

Then they would be married on the first of July.

He knew she was sick of waiting. Even if she didn't vocalize it, it was obvious. Sick of waiting for him to actually ask the question, sick of waiting to act on it. And he knew that it was far too long to ask anyone to wait. But he wanted to show her that he truly did love her, that he wasn't simply blowing her off, that he wanted to be with her—why else would he stick around? He planned on making up for lost time, apologizing for the distance that he no doubt caused. And maybe this could be a start. Stan knew that he had taken a few wrong turns, but they led him to this point, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

The night that they first met, she was newly divorced and his marriage was starting to get a little shaky; he stayed in it for the kids, mainly. He didn't want to tear the family apart and leave them with a broken home. He knew that inevitably it would happen, but he wanted to wait until he knew exactly what he was doing and how to let them down easy. She looked like the last person who would ever choose to inhabit the bar of the upscale restaurant he found her in, and he told her that.

"I wouldn't normally be here," she said. "But my ex-husband's money is paying for it, so I figured I'd give it a shot." He let out a laugh, admiring the fact that she could make a joke even after heartbreak. He was astonished at the fact that she downplayed her obvious beauty. He was mesmerized by the fact that she was able to hold an intellectual conversation in anything he threw out to her. He was hooked.

And when they first kissed, he knew that he wanted her in his life for good. It just took him a while to finally act on it. He just hoped that he hadn't left her hanging on a string for too long, that the engagement ring he had given her meant just as much to her now as it did when he first presented it to her.

Karen left this afternoon to meet with a friend; she didn't say when she would be back. It made no matter anyway. He would wait for her here. It would give him time to figure out exactly what he wanted to say.

All he wanted was to see her smile when he told her.

* * *

Even through the blanket they laid down, they could still feel blades of grass trying to poke through.

They were lying on their backs, Grace nestled in the crook of Karen's arm as they weaved their fingers together. The sky had turned grey and full of inevitable rain, but they didn't make a move to leave. They had never walked through Central Park together before, and it was a spontaneous decision to be there now. And as the sounds of the happiness in the New Yorkers around them filled their silence, Karen thought about everything that brought her to this moment. She was always one to stumble into things by accident, who never really got things right initially but worked to make it okay. There were bumps, twists, wrong turns, and even though they were eventually made right, they were always there with every connection she made.

But she didn't see that in the beginning with Grace. If anything, she hit it right on the nose with the first try. And it made her a little more certain of what she was going to say next.

"I think I might leave him."

Grace lifted her head to look at Karen. "Why now?" she asked. "You've had all this time to do it, and you've stayed with him. Why now?"

"Because I'm starting to realize it's not going to get better. Neither of us are making an effort. I'm starting to think that it's easier to just let it go. And if I can figure out where I'm going to go afterwards, I think I'm going to sit him down and tell him I can't do it anymore."

"You could stay with me. We could both start over again."

"We couldn't do that. You've got Danny. At least he tries with you. Maybe he gets on your nerves sometimes, but at least he tries."

"But does that really matter if I don't feel like trying anymore?"

Karen looked at her and saw that she was completely serious. Six months ago, she didn't want to be unfaithful. Six months ago, she truly seemed like she wanted to make things work with Danny, even if it may be a lost cause. Six months ago, she was merely looking for a way to get rid of the stress, and she found it through this strange and intriguing connection they built. Now, though, it seems like she meant it when she said that trying was futile at this point. Karen wondered if she had any part of that decision; she probably did. "Is that really what it's come down to now?"

"I think so."

Karen tried to lighten up the mood. "So we'll just run away…again?" she said as she let out a little laugh.

A smile started to crawl across Grace's face. "Maybe. Someplace further away this time, more exotic, more remote. Or we could just set up camp in a hotel room somewhere and not come out for days, before we find a place of our own."

When she said that, Karen brushed the hair out of Grace's eyes and let her fingers linger on her cheek. Slowly, a few drops of rain fell into her hair, jewels accentuating the brilliance of her presence. If Grace felt them, she made no move to take cover, and Karen wasn't about to either, for fear of losing this moment—a moment of feeling like everything had finally fallen into place. "Do you know what you do to me?" she asked in a whisper.

"What?" Grace asked with a hint of playfulness in her voice.

"You make me the luckiest every time I look at you."

She watched as Grace averted her gaze and blushed, laughed a little nervously. The skies opened up to unleash a steadier rain. Karen watched as the people around them began to scatter to find shelter. "Maybe we should go," she said, helping Grace up from the ground. She picked up the blanket from the grass and ran to catch up with Grace, who already started running. Passing people on the paths, they almost made it to the sidewalk when Grace stopped abruptly and turned back to look at Karen.

"What's wrong?" Karen said, out of breath. "Did you forget something back there?"

Grace didn't speak, just shook her head and smiled. Then she leaned in, pressed her lips against Karen's. At that moment, she could have sword that the rain falling onto her skin made it taste sweeter. Time froze for a minute, and it was only them, no one else. The people dashing past them didn't matter. The downpour didn't matter. The way Karen kissed back, the way Grace slipped her hands onto Karen's cheeks as she made the first move, the way that it told them everything they needed to know without a single word. That was what mattered.

When they pulled away, Karen took a hold of Grace's hand, helped her cover her head with the blanket in a feeble attempt to keep dry. They made it to the sidewalk and walked to the corner before Karen stopped.

"Where do we go now?"

Grace looked at her with the kiss still fresh on her lips. God, even when she was drenched by the rain, she was absolutely gorgeous. She got sidetracked for a second by her eyes and the way they shone even in the bleak grey of the sky, completely missed what Grace had suggested. "What did you say?" she asked.

"I said, let's grab a taxi and go back to my place."

Karen smiled as she hailed a taxi. When one finally came to a stop for them, she opened the door for Grace, sliding in after. They rode down to Chelsea with a chill from the air conditioning of the vehicle, and a sense of serenity as Grace made her way into Karen's arms for the ride home.


	17. Daisy and Prudence

"_Hey, fashion doll,  
Take off the wall for me and only me.  
You are pretty, pretty  
With ribbons of indecision  
And your lips well disguised."_

_"So what makes us beautiful?  
Daisy is as Prudence does.  
The fabric of seduction reveals  
Beauty just because, beauty just because  
You're straddling me."  
~Erin McKeown, excerpts from "Daisy and Prudence"_

_April 1995_

While everyone else in the world considered this last day in April to be just like any other day, they made it absolutely extraordinary. Grace smashed through the final wall today, without Karen prompting her, completely of her own accord, because she knew now that even at her most vulnerable, she would be safe. She could do anything with her now, and she would be safe.

"I'll find you some dry clothes that you can change into," she said to Karen as they walked through her front door. "You can just drop the blanket in the kitchen to dry." She heard the blanket drop to the linoleum floor with a wet thud before Karen took off her heels and padded her way to Grace's bedroom. Grace had a plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans laying on the bed when Karen walked in. "This is all I've got," Grace said in an apology, knowing it was nothing like what she was used to. In all the time she had known Karen, she had never seen her in anything less than a sleek dress or a blouse that cost more than her rent. It was a mere observation, not anything to complain about; she looked stunning every time Grace saw her. "It's either this or the blue dress you bought me."

"It's fine. It's perfect. Thank you," Karen said with a smile in the doorway of the bedroom, making no move to change into dryer clothes. She took a look at Grace, hair darkened by the rain, her clothes soaked through, and thought for a moment that if they stayed here, in this room, all of their problems would literally wash away with the rain. Grace had a sly look on her face, as if she had something brewing in her mind. Karen scrunched her face up in confusion as a smile started to play on her face. "What exactly are you thinking right now?" she asked.

All along, Grace was held together by ribbons of indecision, tightly tied with virtually no way of ever coming undone. But now, she untied them one by one, letting them fall to the floor in a tailspin. She made her way over to Karen slowly, brushed her fingers along Karen's shoulders. "I think we should get out of these wet clothes," she whispered into her ear, voice a little husky as she slid Karen's dress off of her body. Grace couldn't help but be thrown back to the first time she brought Karen up here, how Karen had done the same thing to her in the kitchen, how she was so unsure of herself and what she was doing back then.

Funny how things can change for the better so dramatically.

She led Karen to the bed, took the dry change of clothes off the mattress and put it on the dresser. She undressed, pulling her shirt over her head before climbing into bed on top of Karen. She looked down into her eyes; the light shining from them was so bright. Maybe it was because she was blinded a bit by it that she fumbled with Karen's lace, laughing at her mistake. She watched as Karen took it off herself with a laugh, tossed it to the side, and reached up to Grace's face, her hands gracing her cheeks. Grace placed her hand to Karen's on her cheek in such a soft motion that she knew there was nothing but love in it.

"God, you are so beautiful," she whispered to Grace, so quietly it was almost inaudible. She pulled her in, pressed her lips against Grace's, closed her eyes when Grace pulled away to fully absorb the feeling of Grace's lips trailing along her chest. She felt Grace's hands wrap around her own while she was traveling down her body and was positive that there was no greater moment in history than this, if not just for their actions, then for the fact that Grace initiated it, that Grace had let every guard down, every wall crumble to the ground. That after six months, she was letting herself feel without guilt.

They made love to the setting sun, and rested against each other's skin once it had grown completely dark outside. Side by side, their fingers entwined with each other, they lay in silence until Karen brought Grace's hand to her lips and kissed her palm, smiled into it. It was then that Grace knew for a fact what she wanted to do, what she had to do, in order to keep going.

"I'm going to leave him."

Karen turned to look at her when she said it. Grace hadn't expressed her intentions to leave Danny before, even earlier when Karen was considering her options in Central Park. Granted, she wasn't really given the chance, but it caught Karen off guard. The whole reasoning behind going about their connection the way they did was so that she wouldn't have to leave him. Maybe what Karen assumed about him had been right all along.

"Are you sure you want to do that?"

"I'm positive. I just can't do it anymore; I don't know why I ever thought I could. I was wasting my time trying to work everything out, when I could have focused on all the good things that were right in front of me. I just want to be happy, and it's not going to happen if I stay with him. And it's not fair to keep him in limbo like this. I'm not doing either one of us any favors."

"When are you going to talk to him about it?"

"As soon as I can. Tomorrow night, maybe; I could have him come over and talk to him. I won't bring you into it, I swear. You don't need to be brought down with me. I just don't want to keep putting him through hell much longer. He can find someone better suited for him than I am. We've never really figured out how we fit together, even though we've tried. I finally realize that now." She turned her gaze to Karen. "You helped me realize it; all along, that's what you were doing. I can't thank you enough for that."

Karen let out a sigh. "Citing me as the cause for the demise of your relationship isn't exactly the greatest compliment in the world."

"No, that's not what I meant. I'm not trying to make you out to be anything evil, I'm not trying to make you out to be wrong. You have to know that I don't think of you like that at all. You've made me happier than I have ever been. You showed me everything I had my eyes closed to. You've given me the greatest gift anyone could ever give. I just want you to know that."

Grace wasn't able to tell, but her statement made Karen's heart swell, not only at the prospect of being together in the end, but also at the fact that everything she had been feeling the entire time she's been around Grace was being reciprocated.

It was the greatest feeling in the world.

"Kare?" Karen loved to hear Grace call her that. It was a common nickname for her, nearly everyone in her life had at one point addressed her with it. But there was something in the way Grace said it. It was almost as if she had kept it for safekeeping, and when she let it slip, it was with the greatest care she could muster. Karen loved it.

"Yes?"

"Will you spend the night with me tonight?" she asked in a whisper. As if it was a ridiculous question. As if it had never happened before. As if there was a chance that Karen would want to leave. But why would she want to leave when everything she ever wanted was lying right next to her? Karen smiled and brushed her lips against Grace's, looked into her eyes when they pulled away.

"Of course. There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

* * *

He understood when she didn't show up at eight o'clock or nine; she was probably spending the day with her friend, they were probably out to dinner. He shrugged it off when ten o'clock rolled by; maybe there was a lot of traffic. And then eleven went past, then twelve. And he couldn't for the life of him figure out where she could possibly be. It just didn't make sense to him.

Stan had never known Karen to be one of those people to stay out at all hours of the night. Well. That wasn't exactly true. In the beginning, she loved to be a part of Manhattan's nightlife, being attracted to the moonlit night more so than the daylight. But as time went by, and they started to become more and more serious, she slowly fazed that portion of her life out in favor of night staying at home, the occasional outing to a restaurant or a party thrown by one of Stan's colleagues.

She hadn't done this in years.

And of all the nights she chose to relive her younger years, it had to be the night that he wanted to tell her the one thing that would change their life together forever. They were never great with timing, starting from their initial meeting, to their love affair, to right now, this very moment. They never seemed to get it right, no matter how hard they tried.

But he loved her in spite of that.

Stan lay on the couch, waiting. Maybe this was his punishment. Maybe this was a bit of revenge for making her wait around in more ways than one. Or maybe she had truly just lost track of time, and is coming back any minute. Either way, it didn't matter. He wasn't going to leave the couch until she came through the front door.

And in the process of waiting, he fell asleep in the living room, rendering himself unable to realize that Karen wasn't coming home tonight.


	18. Come On Home to Me

"_A bird can fly on just one wing,  
But then why should he?  
Where there's sky, there must be rain.  
Where there's you, there's me.  
So do it all, get it done,  
Be all there is to be  
Then wrap yourself in something warm.  
Come on, come on,  
Come on home to me."  
~Tracey Thorn, "Come On Home to Me"_

_May 1995_

She absolutely hated leaving Grace this morning.

Karen woke up with the sun on her face and a beautiful woman in her arms. It didn't get any better than that. In the morning, after she reluctantly got out of bed, she changed into the clothes that Grace gave her last night—her own clothes were dry but Grace had still insisted on her wearing something clean—and planted a kiss on her lips before heading out the door. "If you're actually going to tell him tonight," she said to Grace, referring to the plan to break up with Danny in the evening, "and you want to talk afterwards, just call me. I'll come right over."

Grace gave her a smile. "I know," she said. "Thank you." And with another kiss, she sent Karen out into the Manhattan morning.

When Karen walked through the front door of her home, she was hit by a wall of silence and figured that Stan was probably asleep. She made her way through the foyer to the living room, and found her fiancé asleep on the couch. Was he waiting up for her? Did he always do this? She walked over to him, shook him gently to wake him up. "Stan," she said softly. His eyes fluttered open. "Honey, what are you doing on the couch?"

"I wanted to talk to you," he replied with a sleep-heavy voice, "but I fell asleep before you came home." That hurt a little. He honestly thought that she came home sometime before now. He sat up and focused his gaze on Karen, on the t-shirt and jeans she was sporting. "What are you wearing? Where did you get that?"

She looked down at her outfit—Grace's outfit—and tried to cook up the least incriminating response she could. "We got caught in the rain yesterday, my friend gave me some dry clothes to wear. I actually just got back not too long ago." Might as well come out with the truth, even if she had to omit some things. "I didn't realize how late it got, so I stayed on her couch, because I didn't want to wake you up by coming home late." Lie. "If I had known that you were waiting for me, I would have come home sooner." Another lie.

"Well, since I have you here, let's just talk now." He motioned for her to sit next to him on the couch, and when she did so, he started. "I want to apologize for being a little distant lately. The truth is, I've been planning something for us and got really absorbed in it, and between that and work I didn't have much time. But I think you're going to like what I've done. At least, I hope you will."

"Stanley, just tell me," she said, not at all expecting what he was about to say.

* * *

When he kissed her as he walked through her door, she closed her eyes and pictured Karen. As if any more proof was needed that she was about to do the right thing.

"What do you need to talk to me about?" Danny asked. It had been about a week since Grace had last seen him; after a while, he stopped complaining about the lack of time they spent together and started to take things as they come. She didn't know what he expected tonight—maybe a simple apology for not being around as often as she used to, maybe a night in to make up for it, just the two of them. She knew that he was going to be heartbroken. But it had to be done.

"Come sit with me," she said softly as she led him to the couch. Earlier this morning, after Karen had left, she found a notebook in between the cushions, and when she opened it up, she found the letter she had written to Karen, the letter that had been cut short, just after Vermont. She had completely forgotten about hiding it, placed it on the nightstand in her bedroom after reading over it one more time. But she could still sense the words as she sat down. Grace looked at Danny, tried to think of how to start. "I know that I haven't been around a lot lately."

"I just assumed you were busy. I'm sorry if I've been short with you about it. It was only because I miss you."

"Don't be sorry. I'm not looking for an apology from you. The reason I asked you over here is to tell you why I've been kind of absent." She stopped for a moment, fumbling. "I, uh…god, I didn't know this was going to be so hard to say."

Just then, they heard the door open, watching as Karen took a step inside the apartment with tears in her eyes and an absent look on her face. "Karen, what are you doing here? What's wrong?" Grace asked, voice full of concern. It didn't hit her at first that Danny was still sitting beside her until she looked over to him. Suddenly, a flashback of their encounter at the coffeehouse came full force to her mind. This couldn't end well. She stayed silent, not knowing what to do.

"Gracie, I can come back later if you want." Danny's voice was calm, understanding, surprising considering the first time he actually met Karen. "We can talk later. Unless it's something really important that can't wait."

"No, it can wait." Well. It probably couldn't. But there was no way she could go through with it now; her mind was already distracted by how distraught Karen was when she walked through the door. "I'll call you later and we can figure it out." They got up from the couch, Danny kissed her cheek before leaving and Grace hoped that Karen didn't notice. As soon as the door shut behind him, she raced over to Karen, wrapped her in her arms. "Karen, talk to me. What happened? Why are you crying?"

In all honesty, Karen didn't realize that she was actually crying until Grace said something. Stan had kept her for hours going over all the possible details of this wedding that he planned. He planned. She was never even a part of it until now. What exactly was she supposed to do? Go out and do all the things she can on her own before coming back to him? She felt completely helpless when he finally finished, and she needed to get out of the house. She spent the entire day walking aimlessly around Manhattan, numb. Not exactly how one should feel at the definite prospect of getting married.

Once the sun had set, she found herself outside of Grace's building and it all hit her at once; maybe that's when the tears started. She had to tell her, there was no way around it. It's unbelievable sometimes how everything can be so perfect, and then turn for the worse in an instant. She had completely forgotten about Grace's plans to break up with Danny until she saw him on the couch as she walked in. Maybe it was better that she interrupted them before Grace had a chance to go through with it.

Maybe Grace would think that his heartbreak didn't hurt as much as Karen's, and she would just go back. Karen wouldn't blame her.

"Karen," Grace said again as they sat on the couch. "I'm worried about you. Let me in. Tell me what's going on."

She couldn't look at Grace. She wasn't even going to try to. "He set a date. For our wedding." Silence from Grace. And she couldn't help but want to break it. "The first of July. He has nearly everything planned for it, just a few more details that need to be worked out. He says that's why he hasn't been around that much lately, that he wanted to surprise me, and all this other nonsense that I'm not sure I completely buy. But he seemed genuine enough about it."

Silence. She mustered up the courage to look at Grace, who was staring blankly ahead of her, frozen.

"Gracie, please say something."

"What did you say to him?" Grace managed to get out.

"I told him 'okay.' I didn't know what else to do."

In that moment, she was expecting to be asked to leave. She was expecting the worst. And as all these things were flying through her mind, she watched as a tear rolled down Grace's cheek, followed by a steady stream. When Karen tried to take her in her arms, Grace flinched. And that killed her the most. She tried again and again, Grace trying to pull away every time until she finally gave in and crashed against Karen's chest.

"I hate what you do to me," she said in a sob. It wasn't a direct "I hate you," but god, it felt like one to Karen. "I hate that I feel so completely dismantled right now, so helpless. I put everything to the side for you. We were going to start over together, and you just agreed to marry him in two months." Grace felt like a child, a crying heap in Karen's arms over something that was beyond her control. She felt everything closing in, like the air was slowly leaving the room. All along, she knew that Karen was never solely hers; she knew that she was with Stan, that they were supposed to get married. But there was never any action on the engagement, and it let Grace forget about all of it. But now, it made reality impossible to bear.

"Gracie, I am so sorry. I didn't know what to say to him after that. I couldn't kill his spirits like that. I just figured that maybe I could call it off down the line." Karen could feel the tears welling up again. She saw how she was hurting Grace. She saw what she was becoming. And she hated it with a passion.

"I can't do this anymore," Grace said breathlessly. "It's him or me. And if it's him, you can leave." The first declaration of love, and it came from one of the darkest places imaginable. But it was out there now, and there was nothing left for Grace to give.

And she didn't let Karen have a chance to answer.

She needed to get out of this place; the walls were closing in fast, and she needed to walk through the door while she still could. Despite her demands, she was the one to get up and grab her purse. She was the one to rush through the doorway. She was the one to leave.

And she only made it to the corner of the street before she started to cry again.


	19. Cheers Darlin'

"_Cheers, darlin', here's to you and your lover boy.  
Cheers, darlin', I got years to wait around for you.  
Cheers, darlin', I got your wedding bells in my ear.  
Cheers, darlin', you gave me three cigarettes to smoke my tears away."  
~Damien Rice, "Cheers Darlin'"_

_May 1995_

She tried her hardest to avoid it, but somehow she still ended up here, where fate decided to take her by the hand and lead her to all sorts of unknown places before completely abandoning her and leaving her lost and cold. Even as she was walking with no destination in mind, she knew she was approaching it, and everything in her being told her to cross the street, go the other way. But she didn't, and made her way through the doors, to the spot she occupied once before, what seemed like a hundred years ago.

This damn dive bar is going to haunt her for the rest of her days.

Grace would have stayed in her apartment with Karen, would have hashed it out then and there, if it weren't for the immediate image that appeared in her mind of Karen's wedding day, to someone who she knew wouldn't be able to satisfy her. Karen in a white dress and a veil covering her eyes. Bells chiming in celebration. Smiling faces, flowers, the brightness that naturally comes with a day like this. And Grace couldn't handle it. She knew she ended up negating her ultimatum by being the one to leave, but she didn't know what else to do.

She was helpless. She was hopeless. But at least she had finally stopped crying.

What the hell was she supposed to do here, anyway? Toast the supposedly happy couple (from what Karen told her, they were anything but…maybe that was nothing but an exaggeration, maybe their entire time together was built on a stupid exaggeration) and wish them the best along their way? Hope that their marriage lasts forever and doesn't fall by the wayside like half of them are destined to do? She wasn't feeling that generous.

Did she really deserve to feel betrayed like this? Nothing was ever set in stone. They never professed their love to each other. It wasn't as if she was technically Karen's girlfriend, being left for another prospect. Therefore, she wasn't technically betrayed; maybe a little rejected, but not betrayed. But they kissed like a couple, made love like a couple. There was passion in their whispering and light in their plans for the future. How could she not feel the weight of immense betrayal on her shoulders?

Grace thought of the first time they met, how Karen introduced herself into Grace's life with three cigarettes and a lighter that Grace didn't know how to properly work. Three cigarettes for your problems to disappear in the smoke. Something that was offered for every issue that makes your life come to a halt. This time, though, she thought it was too big of a problem for the smoke to have even the slightest effect.

Either way, three cigarettes and a lighter appeared on the bar beside her, as if her mind was being read.

She pulled them to the space in front of her, looked up beside her to find Karen with a solemn look on her face as she blindly put her pack of cigarettes back in her purse. She looked broken in the garish fluorescent light, on the verge of tears but Grace knew her too well. Grace knew that she wouldn't break down in public. Not in a place like this, anyway. She let the silence take over for a moment, as much as it could amidst the chatter from the people around them and the bad music playing through the speakers. Then, when she realized that Karen wasn't going to leave, she spoke up.

"How did you know I was going to be here?" she asked softly, her query barely audible to Karen's ears. "I didn't even know I was going to be here."

Karen shrugged as she watched Grace hesitate to take a cigarette to her lips and light it. "Lucky guess, I suppose," she said as she slowly sat down beside her, waiting for a challenge to her actions. But when Grace didn't object, she relaxed a little, looking at Grace as smoke slipped through her lips. Karen ordered a drink before fishing around her purse for her cigarettes and taking one, suddenly overcome with a craving.

They sat like that in silence for a while, drinks in one hand, burning cigarettes in the other. Karen would have loved more than anything to break the silence, but in all honesty, she didn't know what the hell she wanted to say. She had already done so much damage in the course of a few minutes that she didn't want to cause complete destruction with a slip of the tongue. But the silence was doing such harmful things to Karen's mind.

She couldn't stop thinking about what Grace said to her as she was crying in her arms. _I hate what you do to me_. It made her go back through her time with Grace, pinpointing the moments that she had inadvertently started to rip her apart. Was it that night a week after they met, when Karen brought her to the Boat Basin and they lay on her boat on the Hudson under the stars? The night she brought Grace into the world she wanted to get away from? The first time they made love? (Obviously). She wanted to stop her mind. She wanted to pull the brakes, but she couldn't find the lever. Karen couldn't take the silence anymore. She looked at Grace and tried to find the voice to speak.

"I wish you would talk to me," she said.

"I have nothing to say," Grace replied. Karen winced when she said it. It was so cold, so unlike her normal tone. Then again, she was the one who caused it, so she deserved it.

Silence. Karen took a deep breath. If Grace wasn't going to talk, she might as well say what's on her mind now, before it's too late, before she chickens out, before Grace has a chance to protest or leave the bar without looking back.

"Do you think this is easy for me? You made me realize just how much I'm hurting you. You kept telling me that I wasn't, but I knew better than that. You wanted to believe that I was going to be different, that we were actually going to make it work. And as much as I wanted to save you from it all, you had me so intoxicated from day one, and I ended up becoming the person I wanted to avoid. You can say what you want, but I'm just the reincarnation of Delia. I'm so sorry for what I do to you, and I'm so sorry that you feel so slighted by it. Maybe I should never have come back to the bar after we first met." That piqued Grace's attention; she looked up from her drink, turned her gaze to Karen. "It would have saved you so much. You could have just written me off as a fluke instead of thinking of me as a mistake."

"No." Grace's voice startled Karen a little; she didn't expect her to say anything, she just figured she'd use this time as a sort of confessional, spouting admissions with which Grace could do what she will. "Don't say that. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to make an ultimatum like that. You just took me by surprise, that's all. All this time, I was pretending like you didn't have any strings attached, like you didn't come home to a man you were engaged to at the end of the day, even though we've mentioned him so many times. I just didn't think you would be so willing to set a date that's two months away."

"I wasn't thinking. I should have spoken up, but I didn't know what to do. I had no idea that he was doing this, it all caught me off guard. I can always call it off. It's what I was thinking of doing anyway."

"I know."

Silence. Grace was halfway through the second cigarette, and they both knew that their problems weren't going away anytime soon. How did it come to this? Yesterday, they were in the park, they were in each other's arms. Yesterday, they made love with the absence of indecision. Yesterday, they were going to stay together. How could it have fallen apart so quickly, so easily? Karen couldn't help herself. Slowly, a tear started to run down her cheek, landing on the bar in front of them. Grace couldn't believe what she was seeing; Karen was never one to cry in public, at least in the time that she had known her. And yet here she was, feeling helpless, feeling like this was all she could do.

Instinctively, Grace put her arm around Karen, leaned in and kissed her cheek softly. "Please don't cry," she whispered in her ear. "I can't stand to see you cry."

"I can't stand to know that I'm dismantling you," Karen whispered back in an honesty that cut Grace to the bone. And she immediately hated herself for doing this to her.

"You're not. I swear you're not. I said it in the heat of the moment. I said it to get back at you for something you couldn't help. I shouldn't have said it. I'm so sorry, Karen. I'm so sorry." Later, she would realize that her words were right, that she was dismantled and it was because of this. But she didn't know it now, and honestly believed that she said it in spite.

"Please," Karen whispered. Somewhere in the time that she started to cry, she had lost the ability to speak with conviction. "Please let me stay with you tonight. I just want to wake up next to you."

"Of course." Grace made a move to pay for their drinks as Karen wiped at her eyes and stood up. Grace took the final cigarette from the bar, lit it and took a drag before handing it to Karen. "I think maybe we both need this one," she said with a half-smile as Karen took a drag. Soon, Grace thought, they would finish the cigarette they shared as they walked the streets. Soon, they would be back at her apartment. Soon, they would fall asleep against each other's skin. Soon, they would wake up with the sun and start a new day. Soon, they would be able to forget all of this. Soon, they would get back on track.

Karen tried to think the same things, but something inside her told her it wasn't that simple.

Something inside her told her that it never would be.


	20. Hook, Line, and Sinker

"_It should be boredom by now;  
I know the tricks of the trade.  
But it goes on anyhow.  
Sometimes the answers are ready-made.  
And I go for it every time  
Just like a heavy drinker.  
I go for it every time  
Hook, line, and sinker."  
~Jon Brion, "Hook, Line, and Sinker"_

_May 1995_

Grace woke up this morning and thought the worst was behind them.

The sun shone through the window on her face, making it too bright to stay in slumber any longer. Her eyes fluttered open to find Karen still asleep beside her. They calmed down once they reached Chelsea, once they undressed and climbed into bed, content with simply holding each other until they fell asleep. Grace was worried that Karen would slip out in the middle of the night; she had no idea that what she said had affected her so much. She had no idea that this was something that on some level had always been on Karen's mind. And if she was willing to let her go like that, maybe she would regret her decision to spend the night halfway through and walk out the door. But she was here now. And to Grace, that meant that half the battle was already won.

She leaned over, kissed Karen's forehead and watched as she slowly opened her eyes. "Hey," she said in a whisper. "We made it through the night. I think we're going to be okay."

Karen's eyes adjusted to the sunlight in the room as she spoke. "We did. I'm sorry about last night."

"Don't worry about it anymore. It's in the past. It's a new day, we can move on."

"How can you be so optimistic like that?" Karen asked genuinely.

"Because we've had a few bumps in the road before, but we always made it past them. So what would be different about this one?" Karen didn't answer that, couldn't, not because she didn't have an answer, but because she didn't think Grace would be able to handle the one she had in mind. Grace climbed out of bed, letting the sheets fall away from her bare skin as she made her way to the closet and picked out a change of clothes. "I'm going to get a quick shower," she started. "And then maybe afterwards, we can grab some breakfast somewhere. Does that sound good?"

"That sounds great," Karen said as she tried to muster up a smile. She watched Grace as she padded her way out of the bedroom towards the bathroom. She threw herself back down on the mattress and ran her hands down her face. She hated what she was about to do. But there was no way around it. It had to be done.

All night, she wasn't able to get it out of her head. Grace said she was okay; it should have ended at that. She should have felt better and they should have been able to move on. But Karen was still stuck on what Grace said last night, before they had the talk at the bar. _I hate what you do to me_. Grace said she didn't mean it. Grace said she threw it out there in the heat of the moment. But Karen didn't really buy that. If she said it, it had to have come from some grain of truth. And if it came from some grain of truth, that meant that Karen was every bit as ruthless and destructive as she thought she might be when she was contemplating whether or not to go back to the bar.

She was Delia, no matter what Grace said. There was no way around it.

Karen got out of the bed and picked her clothes up from off the floor. She got dressed in a hurry, knowing that she had to do this while Grace was still in the shower. There was absolutely no way she would be able to do it while she was in the room, after she had asked to spend the night. She only wished her last spoken words to her weren't a response to something as trivial as breakfast.

"That sounds great." Those would be the last three words she ever told Grace. Not anything important. Not anything that would ever mean something. Not "I love you." Damn it, why didn't she just say "I love you?" Why didn't she say it when she first felt it, or when she first thought Grace did, or when Grace finally broke down that final wall? Why couldn't they just admit it?

Maybe she would have stayed if they did. But there was no telling that now. Karen could never be fully certain of Grace's feelings. And because of that, there was always going to be that notion that Karen was doing nothing but harm to her.

She went to grab her purse to fish around for something to leave behind, a sign that she wasn't completely heartless, when she got sidetracked by a notebook lying on the nightstand. How had she never noticed it before? Grace left it open to a page with Karen's name on it, at the top. She picked it up, looking at the doorway to make sure Grace wasn't coming in anytime soon, and started to read it.

_Even when you're not around, you make me nervous. Even now, in the comfort of my home, my senses are heightened and I'm on edge, because of the mere possibility that you could walk through my door at any minute. And it's not because you scare me, because I don't think you do anymore. It's because I scare myself, knowing that despite my best efforts, I could let everything slip and ruin it in an instant._

As she read on, she realized that Grace had written it when they first got back from Vermont. And she realized what she had figured she was misjudging all along. There was genuine love there. And in that second, Karen wished she had never picked up the notebook. She knew that doing this was going to be one of, if not the hardest thing she had ever done. But reading this letter that Grace never sent, never even filled her in on, made it ten times worse. The damage had already been done. Why make it worse?

Better to leave now, not waste any time.

On her way out the door, Karen kept reminding herself that Grace would be fine. She'd be a little surprised at first, a little heartbroken maybe, but she would be fine. She'd find someone better than Karen ever was. That may be in Danny, although she hoped it wouldn't be. It may be in another man. Hell, it may even be another woman. Maybe she would shrug this whole experience off as a fluke and act like it never happened. Maybe she'll take it as a learning experience. Maybe she was expecting an exit all along.

Whatever it was, she couldn't guess. But she had to believe that Grace would be fine. It was all she had. It helped her believe that, eventually, she would be okay too.

Karen made one last look towards the bathroom, to make sure Grace hadn't finished. And then she walked out with a whisper before closing the door quietly behind her.

"Goodbye, Fashion Doll."

* * *

The drops of water falling on her skin felt like a new beginning, a cleansing of everything that had gone wrong. It felt refreshing, it felt lovely. And what made it better was that as soon as she was finished, she'd walk out to find Karen, wrapped up in the sheets. So she didn't get a chance to break it off with Danny last night. She'll do it later. Just spend some time with Karen before trying again. Enjoy yourself, Grace. You two just dodged another bullet.

You deserve it.

She was always gullible when it came to the ones she gave her heart to. She fell for everything they said. She believed that Will truly wanted to marry her when he asked. She believed that Danny was never going to hurt this way, or that way, or any way, again when he promised. But those promises were always broken in one way or another, and she swore she wouldn't trust as easily the next time around. But then again, that promise always got broken, too.

And somewhere in between drops of water, she got a sudden chill, as if something had gone horribly wrong, like she was fated for something that went against her wishes. But it wasn't about Karen. It couldn't be. This was different. She could feel it. Karen was different; she had been the entire time. They had broken every other convention that had been put forth by her previous love life. Why not break through one more?

Grace turned the water off, grabbed a towel and started to dry herself. Wiped away the fog on the mirror. She took the towel to her hair before getting dressed. She opened the bathroom door and greeted the rush of cool air coming from the rest of the apartment. "Karen?" she called out. No response. Maybe she fell back asleep. Grace walked out into the living room, silence taking over.

"Karen?" Nothing.

Glancing over at the bedroom, she noticed that Karen wasn't in bed.

Oh god. No.

She raced around her apartment; it wasn't big, but maybe she was around here somewhere. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she searched, coming up empty in every corner of her place. This couldn't be happening. A few hours ago, Karen promised she would stay, and things were going to get better. She saw no reason to distrust her. But maybe this was another thing to fall for, hook, line, and sinker. Her tears spilled over down her cheeks as she walked back into the bedroom and threw herself on the mattress, looking around one final time.

She didn't find Karen's clothes. She didn't find Karen's purse. She didn't find Karen.

What she did find was a trio of cigarettes on the nightstand beside her bed, on top of the notebook that was open to her letter to Karen—oh god, she read that, didn't she? And underneath the letter she had never finished, were two words in Karen's looped handwriting.

_I'm sorry._


	21. 4th of July

"_Oh, baby, I wonder if when you are older  
Someday,  
You'll wake up and say, "My god, I should have told her-  
What would it take?  
But now here I am, and the world's gotten colder  
And she's got the river down which I sold her.'"  
~Aimee Mann, "4__th__ of July"_

_July 1995_

"Do you want to head over to the Hudson tonight for the fireworks? It might be nice to get out of the house for a little bit."

"Really?" she asked with a smirk, a hint of laughter in her voice. "You're thinking of changing up the routine? You don't want to watch it on TV and drink yourself half-drunk like we do every other year?"

Will laughed at her comment as he cleared the table; they had never bought into the traditional Fourth of July festivities that went hand in hand with the day. Grace had been coming by for breakfast more and more lately, and part of him wondered if this was an attempt to avoid Danny. Whatever had caught her attention, leaving little time for her boyfriend, seemed to have disappeared and maybe she thought he would fill the void. In any case, she seemed to slowly revert back to the woman he had come to know and love over the years, and he had to admit that he was relieved to see it.

"Well, that does sound much more appealing," he joked. He looked down at the section of the paper Grace had in her hands. She was looking at wedding announcements, something she routinely went for whenever the newspaper was readily available to her. "I never understood your fascination with those," he said as he sat back down beside her.

"I just think it's interesting to see who ended up with who, seeing where old long lost schoolmates ended up." Grace turned the page and was confronted by a picture of a newlywed couple. In any other circumstance, it wouldn't have fazed her; she would have gone through the announcement as quickly as she did with the rest of them. But her eyes were glued this time. She knew this woman; she liked to think she knew her well. She never met the man pictured beside her, but she heard enough about him to feel like she knew him. Grace read the small announcement below.

_Karen Delaney and Stanley Walker were wed in a ceremony held in Central Park on Saturday. It is the third marriage for her, and the second marriage for him._

Central Park. That kiss in the rain while everyone else was finding shelter. That beautiful moment they shared together, one of their last, and she chose to pledge her life to another man there. Was it in the same spot where they lay and Karen first expressed her desire to leave him? There was an irony there that Grace acknowledge but in no way took pleasure in. She looked at the picture of Stan, finally able to put a face to the name, to the accusations, to the complaints. He looked nothing like she thought he would. But did it really matter? She could criticize him all she wanted, but it would be a waste of breath. It was over.

Karen married him, like she said she wouldn't do. She wondered if Karen felt any regret, any remorse. But she shook it off; if Karen made no move to see her, then she probably didn't think about it nearly as much as she did.

There was a smile on her face in the photograph, her eyes bright with the prospect of a long and loving future with her new husband. At any other time, Grace would have bet anything on the fact that it was completely faked for the camera; she was supposed to look happy—what bride wouldn't be beaming with joy on her wedding day?—so she put on a particularly festive mask on for the occasion. But everything she put together that built the person she thought Karen was got utterly destroyed when she walked out of the shower to find nothing but cigarettes and a haphazard note, leaving nothing but the dust of deception. For all Grace knew, she was happy with him the entire time, and just decided to play a little game for a while, leaving when it got boring.

There had to be something about Stan Walker that made Karen stay. But Grace couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was. Although, maybe she was comparing herself to Karen too much, maybe that's why she couldn't figure it out. Because after Karen left, she tried her damndest to fine something in Danny, and it was either hidden so far in the dark that she couldn't see it, or it was never there to begin with.

Either way, she was stuck with him.

It happened pretty quickly. That weekend, once she was able to calm down and clear her head a little, she went over to Danny's to ask for forgiveness, to make up for the months of time they lost. It took some time for him to get back on board, but eventually he did, and they wheeled themselves slowly along the track they had originally set for themselves. A month after Karen walked out on her, Grace's lease on her apartment was up, and Danny asked her to move in with him. She didn't know what else to do; the apartment in Chelsea reminded her too much of Karen, and she didn't want to be alone. And even though it wasn't perfect, it was enough to take her mind off of Karen, to the point where she was starting to forget.

But this, now, brought everything back. And she realized she wasn't completely over Karen.

She wondered if she ever would be.

"Gracie, what's the matter?" Will's voice jerked her back into reality and she turned her gaze towards him with a surprised look on her face. "Sweetie, you're crying, what's wrong?"

Confused, she took her fingers to her cheek, felt the remnants of tears. When did this start? She looked away from Will and stayed silent. There was no way she was going to be able to explain this one to him. Even though she's shared just about every other little detail in her life with him, she would not be able to live this one down.

"Grace?" Will asked again, his voice full of concern.

"I, uh…" she started, fumbling for the right words. "It's nothing, I just…excuse me." With that, she bolted out of her chair and raced to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She pressed her back against the door and let out a sigh, tears still streaming down her face as she realized the one fact she never wanted to be true.

She would never be rid of Karen.

* * *

Today was supposed to be a day to celebrate independence. But she was here, on this plane ready to take off for Italy, celebrating the fact that she bound herself to someone, and planned to stay for the rest of her life. There was an irony somewhere in there that Karen acknowledged, but in no way took pleasure in.

She looked away from the window towards Stan, seated beside her, her husband. God, that sounded so weird. So unnatural. It didn't feel like that the first two times she did this. Maybe she was just jaded. Or maybe this never should have happened.

She should have told Grace. Everything.

After she left, Karen couldn't help but feel the immense weight of guilt; about leaving, about how she had handled things with Stan, about everything. So she tried to make things better with Stan before the wedding, to know that they would go into this on good terms. She tried to delude herself into thinking that this was the best thing to do; some days were better than others. But there was always that lingering notion that she should have stayed.

Instead, she sold Grace down the river. And she felt like hell about it.

A couple of weeks before the wedding, Karen made her way downtown to Chelsea, found herself outside of Grace's building. She was hesitant at first, but eventually, she made her way up the stairs to Grace's door, knocked on it. If she still had the key, she would have tried to go in herself, but she left it in Grace's apartment when she made her exit. Her heart pounding, she was nervous about how Grace would receive her. Until the door opened.

And she realized that Grace no longer lived there. She realized that she completely missed her chance to make things right between them.

Karen wondered if Grace went back to Danny, if she was happy. If she ever thought about their time together. She probably didn't. For all Karen knew, she moved on as soon as she found the note and the cigarettes. So if Grace moved on, maybe it was time for her to move on as well. She certainly had every reason to; she was married now, promising to spend the rest of her life with a man she supposedly loves. There wasn't a more opportune time to forget about it all.

But it was still there, no matter how hard she tried to make it go away.

"I can't wait to show you Italy," Stan said suddenly, jerking her back into reality. She had never been there before, and Stan had never taken her. Maybe he was saving it for something special. It only made her heart hurt even more. He didn't deserve her; he deserved someone who wasn't hung up on another woman. He deserved someone who didn't spend the better part of six months complaining about his flaws and taking comfort in someone else's arms. But he was blissfully unaware, and Karen tried so hard to be the person she wanted to be for him. She really did. But here she was, with the chill of the dark and a lie on her lips. And the truth remained.

She was still in love with Grace.

And no amount of trying was ever going to rid her of this.


	22. True Romantic

"_If you took all the good stuff  
And you put it all together,  
And you took all the bad stuff  
And you threw it all away,  
Would I still be the girl  
That suits your fancy?  
Would I still be the boy  
That rocks your world?"  
~Indigo Girls, "True Romantic"_

_September 1998_

After a few drinks in her, even with this hideous wedding dress on, she was starting to feel a little better.

Will took her out for a drink after they made up. She never could stay angry at him for very long. They left straight from Will's office, leaving her no time to change into more comfortable clothing, but at least they were going out. At least she could try to take her mind off the mess she made. And in spite of how dramatically things have changed over the course of a few hours, Grace actually enjoyed herself tonight.

It was a pleasant change to how the day had been going.

They stumbled out of the cab that parked outside Will's building—Grace had been staying there for a while now—and walked towards the door. The doorman stopped Grace on her way in, handed her a small gift box that was in his hands. "Someone came by and left this for you," he said.

Grace waited until she got inside the elevator to untie the ribbon around the box. She froze for a moment after she opened it, unable to believe her eyes. She heard Will's inquiry—"Well, what's inside?"—but she made no effort to answer him. She merely kept her eyes inside the box.

She found three cigarettes nestled between the walls of the tiny gift box. Underneath them lay a note in Karen's handwriting—it had been years since she last saw it, but she would know that handwriting anywhere. She picked it up to read it. It was sparse—Karen was never great with the written word, if her exit note was anything to go by—but it hit her hard anyway.

_Our bar tomorrow night at 11?_

Our bar. Talking about it like they still had a connection. Talking about it like the tears and the exit, the wedding and the almost-wedding had never happened. But Grace was taken. And she knew what she had to do.

* * *

God, it felt so strange being the one to wait here this time around. Karen found a spot at the bar, nursing a drink and hoping that Grace wasn't too pissed to neglect her feeble peace offering. All she wanted to do was talk about it. They let it slip; they remember. If they don't acknowledge it, they're going to sink further until they drown. Anxious, hopeful, worried. She wondered if this is how Grace felt every time she waited here.

It was growing late, 11 o'clock long past gone, and Karen was beginning to realize that it was hopeless. She turned around to go but froze when she looked at the doorway. Grace looked a little defeated against the fluorescent glow of the room, as if she had argued with herself all day about whether or not to actually come here, and despite her best efforts, she showed up. She fished in her purse and pulled out the three cigarettes Karen had left with the doorman before walking over to her. Karen fumbled for a lighter, but Grace's touch on her wrist stopped her.

"I don't smoke anymore," Grace said. It wasn't as cold as Karen was expecting it to be, and it put her at ease. It didn't stop her before, when they first met; Karen wanted to point that out, but knew it probably wouldn't end well. "I quit when you left. I still haven't smoked the cigarettes you left me while I was in the shower."

Grace didn't mean it to, but that chilled Karen to the bone.

Grace sat down and ordered a drink, still couldn't look at Karen as she talked. "I almost married him yesterday," she said softly.

"Honey, I _did_ marry him."

"Are you happy?"

"No." That was it. That was what made Grace look at her, finally. "It was great for about two weeks. And then we came back from the honeymoon. And it was like nothing had ever happened. He has these beautiful bursts of love and affection but they only come around once in a blue moon. And the distance and the silence overshadow it all. I've been miserable for three years. I should have stayed with you."

"Then why didn't you?" Grace's voice broke when she asked. If she were a heartless person, she would have taken a little solace in the fact that Karen's marriage was far less than perfect, would have taken it as some kind of revenge for leaving. But her heart broke for Karen, more than it was already broken.

"I tried so hard. I promised you that I would stay with you, and I had every intention of keeping that promise. You have to know that. But I saw what you were going through. I saw how much I was hurting you, even though you didn't think I was. You had completely broken down when I told you that he set a wedding date. And I couldn't get it out of my mind. I ended up becoming everything you wanted to get away from, and I didn't want to harm you anymore. As much as it killed me to do it, I knew I had to leave. And once I did, I put it in the darkest corner of my mind, and I was able to go on. But then I saw your ad in the classifieds one day; Grace Adler Designs was looking for an assistant. Seeing your name in print brought everything back to the forefront. That's why I called for an interview. I thought I would be able to just see how you were doing, where you were in the world, if only for a few minutes. I figured I'd give the worst answers to your questions and you'd continue looking for someone who was a better fit. But you gave the job to me. And I haven't been able to concentrate on anything else but you since."

Silence. Grace couldn't stop looking at Karen. Everything she had built up in her mind about Karen being some ruthless liar prone to deception at every turn was completely destroyed at that moment. There was no reason to lie now; it had been three years since it all took place. What good would it do to make up a story? She tried to speak, fumbling for the right words until she finally found them.

"All this time, I thought it was me. I thought you made that promise too quickly and when you finally had time to realize what you said you would do, you couldn't handle it. I thought you were playing a game with me the whole time, some twisted little joke that only you were in on. And I thought that all that I painted you to be would be enough to get over you. But it wasn't. You've proved me wrong, and all it did was magnify the fact that I never truly got over you. I should have said it all when I had the chance. Maybe then things would be different. I fell. I fell harder than I ever fell for anyone else. I loved you, Karen."

"I still love you, Grace."

Oh god. Maybe she shouldn't have said that. It had been three years, but it was true. Her feelings never dwindled; if anything, they only intensified when she married Stanley; she had put herself in a situation where she would be reminded of what she used to have with Grace for the rest of her days, to compare it with what she has now and lament.

"There isn't much we can do about it now, is there? You married him, Kare." Karen's heart swelled when she heard that, the first time Grace used a nickname when calling her in three years. It felt so sweet to hear it. "It's been so long. Who's to say what we had will still be there if we revisit it?"

"Don't think about the bad stuff. We can't dwell on that. Just focus on the good things that we had. We can still make that work. You're still the one that makes life worth living." Karen hesitated. She didn't know if she wanted to hear the answer to the question she so desperately wanted to ask. But she braced herself, took a deep breath, and let it go. "Do you still love me?"

Silence. Karen turned her gaze to her lap. Well. Maybe that was the answer. Maybe there was more meaning in "I loved you" than she took at first. Maybe she put herself out there only to be defeated. Maybe she deserved it, for the way she left Grace all those years ago. What was she talking about?

She definitely deserved it.

But then, when all hope was just about lost, a little whisper from Grace.

"Of course I still love you."

Karen's glance shot back to Grace. "Really?" she asked in disbelief, not knowing what else to say, not knowing how else to act.

"The only reason I never said anything back then was because I thought it would ruin…whatever it was we had together. Our relationship—that's what it was, the entire time. We just never put a word to it, we never acknowledged it like that. And we should have. I realize that now. The fact that I never told you that I love you, the fact that I never called what we had a relationship, the fact that I was pretending like this was just another friendship was what caused everything to crash. I never meant to do that to you. I'm so sorry. You're still the one that makes me believe that there are beautiful things in this world, if you can find them. I found the most beautiful thing in the world three years ago, and I was foolish enough to let it slip away from me. I was just so afraid that you wouldn't remember me."

"Please. You're still my Fashion Doll."

That's when Karen felt Grace's fingers brush her hair behind her ear. That's when she saw Grace lean in. That's when she felt Grace's lips brush against hers in a kiss that no one else noticed, but meant the world to her.

"Do you want to go somewhere a little quieter?" Grace asked with a smile starting to crawl across her lips as she pulled away.

"I'll go wherever you want to go," Karen whispered back, as Grace took her by the hand and led her out of the bar.


	23. Don't Let Us Get Sick

"_The moon has a face, and it smiles on the lake  
And causes the ripples in time.  
I'm lucky to be here with someone I like  
Who maketh my spirit to shine.  
Don't let us get sick, don't let us get old,  
Don't let us get stupid, alright?  
Just make us be brave, and make us play nice,  
And let us be together tonight."  
~Warren Zevon, "Don't Let Us Get Sick"_

_September 1998_

"Will's asleep, he won't notice a thing. We can be alone tonight."

Your whisper was sweet to my ears as you shut the door quietly behind us. You told me that he was letting you stay here, that if we were quiet, he'd sleep right through everything. I can hear you, but all that connects is the way your hand feels against mine, soft as it was three years ago. All that connects is the way your touch still sends those chills up and down my spine.

All that connects is the fact that it's been three years since I held you in my arms, and it feels like we're starting up right where we left off without fail.

This is a far cry from your old apartment in Chelsea; I never completely took you for an uptown woman—on the way here, you were telling me how Danny lived on the Upper West Side and you moved into his apartment once your lease was up—but even though you've changed in some ways, you're still the same Grace I've been holding in my memory all this time.

If I never thought in a million years that you would actually hire me when I walked through your office door a couple of weeks ago, I figured that there would be even less of a possibility that we would rekindle the flame that kept us alive for almost seven months. And yet here we are, hand in hand, your smile leading me down the hall to the spare bedroom that Will set up for you. "It's not much," you whispered before leading me through the doorway. "You're bound to be underwhelmed." With that, I'm thrown back to the first time you brought me inside your apartment in Chelsea; I don't know if you remember that you said the same thing back then. I don't know if you know that I remember. But something in your whisper tells me that you do.

And something in the way you took me in your arms once you closed the door tells me that I'm going to be safe tonight.

When I married Stan, even though I knew it was wrong, I thought it was safe. What I realized is that it was only safe for me. I knew that I wouldn't be alone, I knew that I was with someone who cared about me, no matter how little he actually did care. But I'm only killing him slowly. He deserves to be with someone who can give the love he needs. He deserves to be with someone who didn't use him as a fallback plan. He deserves to be with someone who hasn't been hung up on another woman for their entire marriage.

I think maybe I'll tell him everything. But only if you'll still have me.

You told me you still love me, the first time either one of us fully expressed anything like that. You brought me here tonight to be with you. But it could all be a ploy, some sort of revenge for walking out on you way back when, even though I gave you my reasons. Maybe part of you still hurts and you can't handle it. So you want to take it out on me.

God, what am I saying? It's you, Grace. You've never had a vengeful bone in your body.

This is what I know: after three years, your body still holds the same warmth as you curl into mine. Your lips taste just as sweet. Even in the darkness, you glow with a light I have missed for so long. When you say my name, you take special care of it, just like you did the first time you said it. When I'm in your arms, there is nowhere else I'd rather be.

But I can't help but think you're only doing this for me. I can't help but think you're only satisfying my desires, while you've built up an indifference. I don't think you would ever do that, but I can never know for sure; a lot can change in three years. I have to put this out there. I have to let you know that you shouldn't do anything you don't want to.

"You know," I whisper to you, "I can leave if you want me to. I can stop if you need me to. I don't have to be here; I don't want you to feel like you have to do this just because you think I want it."

You start to smile, run your fingers along my shoulder. "Karen," oh, I love the way you say my name, "I want this, too. You have to believe that. I've been wanting this since you left. I've never stopped wanting it."

With that, I let a smile I can't control grow wide across my face. I'm not going to bog this down with talk about Stan, about possibly leaving him. If and when we decide to continue this, I'll bring it up. All that matters now is that your burrow deeper into my chest every time I kiss the crown of your head. All that matters is that you give me everything I could ever ask for with simply the light in your eyes.

All that matters is that we're here, together, tonight.

* * *

I thought I had lost you forever.

I thought that I could completely shatter, completely dismantle, once again, and you would leave me here without any way to put myself back together. Part of it would have been my fault, for thinking I could marry him and be happy. But then you left your calling card with the doorman, you let me know that you wanted to see me. And I knew that it wasn't over yet.

You told me why you left that day, you gave me the answer to the question I've been asking myself for three years. And I wasn't angry, I wasn't in any mood to scream at you for hurting me. It let me know that you really did care about me all that time. Even though you showed it in a way I never understood, you really did care about me. You loved me.

My movements are hesitant, my thoughts tentative. I don't know how far is too far. But as I kiss your collarbone, you don't make a move to stop me. As I run my hands through your hair, you smile and welcome it. And then, without a word of warning, it slips out of my lips.

"I love you."

Something I didn't dare touch when I met you. Something we weren't allowed to say. Something that went against the rules before. But it's been three years. It's about time the rules were broken. I hold my breath in the silence. You said it before, earlier tonight, but maybe it was only because the moment prompted it. Maybe it was because you thought you had to say it, some obligation you had to me to make me feel better. And surely you wouldn't say it again if you didn't really mean it. A million thoughts of you not giving me the response I want to hear. They were racing around in my mind so fast that I almost didn't catch what you said to me. Soft, quiet, but it was there.

"I love you too, Fashion Doll."

You love me. You still do. And that's the biggest relief I could ever imagine. Because I couldn't take it if you didn't love me when I was still so crazy about you.

I love the way you still call me Fashion Doll. Some little quip that happened by chance that you held on to and I couldn't get enough of. I forgot how sweet it was. I forgot how it made me feel like I was the only one who mattered. It was something I hadn't felt in a long time. You always knew how to get to me.

"Karen?" I ask after a long, comfortable silence. It's late, and we normally would have been in a deep slumber by now. Your eyes have been fluttering for a while now, your desperate attempts to keep from falling asleep starting to fail. Are you like me? Are you trying to keep awake for fear of missing one moment of our warmth? I hear you utter a little noise of recognition. "Will I get to wake up with you in the morning?"

You look at me with a smile in your eyes. "Of course," you said to me, tightening your hold on my waist. "I'm not going to let you go again. I promise."

I have no reason to doubt that.

I don't know where we're headed. I don't know if you will divorce him, although I hope that one day you'll find that you want to be with me and only me. But right now, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that we put aside any misconceptions that have grown over the past three years. All that matters is that I can feel your skin against mine and it's the best feeling in the world. All that matters is that I love you, and you love me back.

All that matters is that we're here, together, tonight.

And I finally feel as though I'm starting to be reassembled once again.


End file.
